Disclaimer: All the characters within this story belong to JK Rowling. I just write for fun.


Harry stared out of the window in the back of his Uncle Vernon’s car. The June sky was clear and sun was just beginning to sink in the sky. Uncle Vernon’s rant about the wizards outside platform 9 ¾ was surprisingly short. Apparently Mad Eye Moody had gotten the point across. Uncle Vernon’s size usually gave him the upper hand in intimidation, but Moody’s gnarled appearance, his magical eye, and his magical prowess had given him the upper hand. Moody had just successfully bullied the bully.

Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia were chatting about money, perhaps buying a summer house, and Dudley’s tuition for his university education, and then the conversation took a rather bizarre turn.

“Dudley,” Uncle Vernon began in a calm voice, “what is going on with your marks at school?”

Harry turned his head to glance at Dudley, who turned slightly pink. “What you do mean Dad?” Dudley asked.

“Son, every phone call you made, every letter you sent, you told us that your marks were fine. We just got your school report today,” Vernon said in a forced calm.

“Er… Yeah, my marks were fine,” Dudley said in a defensive tone.

“Dudley, according to your report, your best mark was a C, and you received an E in your mathematics course.”

Dudley became extremely defensive, “yeah,” he said defiantly, “my marks are fine. I passed everything didn’t I? There were no U’s.”

“Passing is not enough. You need better marks and good test scores if you want to go study at a university,” Vernon emphasized.

“Well, I don’t want to go to a university.”

“I have a university degree,” Vernon said gruffly, “and so does your mother. The only ones in our family who didn’t study at the university level were Harry’s parents. And you will damn well not end up like them.”

‘Like that’s likely,’ Harry thought, still staring out the window.

Dudley bristled like a cat and retorted, “Harry’s not going to a university. He goes off to some loony school. You couldn’t make him go to a regular school, and you can’t make me go to a university either.”

Harry decided that this fight, like the many he had heard from Ron and Hermione the previous year, wasn’t worth entering. Dudley was trying to drag Harry into the fight in order to shift the attention from himself. It was an old tactic, and Harry wasn’t going to take the bait. He continued to stare out the window, where the sun was slowly sinking creating a beautiful red tone across the evening sky. But the mood in the car was getting very chilly.

Uncle Vernon retorted angrily, “Harry is a freak, and whether I want it or not he belongs with those… people. I wash my hands of him. He’ll end up as worthless as his dead parents. You, on the other hand, are not worthless. You need to get your marks up to get into a good university.”

Harry let the words wash over him. Somehow the spot in his mind where Sirius used to be felt more hollow. He let the hollowness wash over him.

To his right, Dudley fumed, “I am not going to study at a university. I’m not going. You can’t force me. It’s not my fault I get bad marks, my professors hate me.”

“Dudley, your professors are not the problem. They understand that you are struggling; they want you to get into a good university. They have sent home a program of instruction to follow this summer. If you complete it, they will change your term marks. They are giving you another chance.”

“I’m not studying in the summer. Summer is supposed to be fun,” Dudley pouted.

“You will study this summer,” Vernon said angrily, “You will improve your marks.”

“No! I won’t waste my summer studying. Mum, please. I just want to relax and have some fun with my friends,” Dudley tried reasoning with his mother instead of his father.

“Dudley,” Vernon continued, “your mother isn’t going to get you out of this. You have to improve your marks. You will spend every morning studying, and then you can do what you like in the afternoon.”

“But what if I want a lie-in? Mum, come on, please?”

“Dudley,” Petunia said soothingly, “you need to study. If you study in the morning, you can have a special morning snack, whatever you like.”

Harry thought through his hollowness that Dudley must still be on his diet.

This last statement of Aunt Petunia’s seemed to placate Dudley somewhat and he didn’t reply, but he stared angrily out the window.

“You still can’t make me go study at a university,” Dudley said quietly after a few minutes. “I’m not going and there isn’t anything you can do about it.”

“We’ll talk about it later,” Vernon replied as he pulled into the driveway. The family all got out of the car and Vernon unlocked the car trunk so that Harry could retrieve his belongings. Someone was waiting in a car across the street. As Harry was digging his trunk out, the man started to walk toward them.

The man was wearing a hat, a suit, and a long coat. Harry glanced over at him warily, it was about ninety degrees, and he was overdressed for the weather. The man glanced at Harry before calling, “Vernon, Vernon Dursley.”

Uncle Vernon turned and looked at him. “Yes, I’m Mr. Dursley, who are you?”

“You don’t remember me then?” the man asked.

Harry palmed his wand in his back pocket. This man seemed like trouble, and Voldemort had many agents, Moody’s words, “Constant Vigilance” came to mind.

“Should I?” Vernon said forcefully.

“Perhaps you don’t remember me, but I remember you. You got me fired from my job last year. I’m Ned Rivers, from the Product Design group.”

“Oh yes, I do remember you now. Your design malfunctioned, lost us tens of thousands of pounds,” Vernon replied.

“You never should have sold it to them in the first place. It was never designed to hold those tolerances. You went against the design and went ahead with the sale despite my warnings. Then you convinced the Vice President that was my fault. I can’t find another job. I lost my house, I lost my wife to another man, and I lost my dignity, having to live with my parents. It’s your fault. You are going to pay, you and your family.” The man shot a look to Harry and then to Aunt Petunia and Dudley by the front door.

“Don’t threaten me, Ned Rivers,” Vernon shot back. “It was your fault. That drill was bound for failure no matter who bought it.”

“No it wasn’t. You set me up. This is your fault. And you are going to pay.”

The man called Ned Rivers pulled a gun on Uncle Vernon. Despite all of the recent events in Harry’s life, he wasn’t prepared for an armed gunman on the driveway at Privet Drive. He quietly started to pull his wand out so that the gunman couldn’t see.

Vernon looked startled, scared and for once in his life speechless.

Ned Rivers seemed to be growing larger with confidence. “Not so brave now are you. Tell me you’re sorry.”

Vernon was paralyzed with fear and couldn’t say a word. Harry was still slowly pulling his wand out without the gunman seeing.

“I said,” Ned raged, “Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me that you’ll give me anything to live, just don’t shoot. Tell me Vernon, tell me.” The gunman, still looking at Uncle Vernon, absentmindedly pointed the gun at Harry and shot him.

There was a large BANG and the acrid smell of gunpowder in the air. Harry stumbled back into the car. His right leg gave out, causing Harry to flail widely around for something to grab on to prevent his fall. He managed to catch himself on the bumper, before he hit the ground. Using the car, he pushed himself back up to his feet, and went to stun him, but he almost fell again. His leg wouldn’t support his weight. He looked down. His jeans were soaked in red sticky blood.

Balancing on his one good leg, Harry raised his wand and yelled, “Stupefy.” Harry was off balance. The spell went wide, and just grazed the gunman. It appeared that he didn’t even notice. He was still ranting, “Tell me you’re sorry. Tell me you’ll give me all your money,” he shot at Vernon’s pocket where he kept his wallet, “Tell me you’ll give me your family,” he shot again at Harry, and then toward Petunia and Dudley, standing rooted in the driveway, “Tell me you’ll give me your car”, he shot the car.

The noise was deafening. Harry stumbled again into the car but he couldn’t catch himself, and he fell to the ground with a dull thud. Harry recovered quickly and pushed himself to his knees. He took more careful aim and yelled “Stupefy”. This time the spell hit the target and gunman fell to the ground unconscious, but he was in act of firing and the shots went wild. Aunt Petunia started screaming.

Harry looked down at himself and realized that his shirt was becoming wet and sticky. He reached down to touch his side, where there was a dull ache. He pulled his hand away and it was covered in blood. The dull ache turned rapidly into full blown pain. Harry winced and then looked around for help.

Uncle Vernon was lying sideways on the ground, bleeding freely from several wounds. Aunt Petunia seemed unhurt, and was kneeling down next to him. “Vernon,” she screamed and started shaking him. “Vernon, Vernon,” she chanted over and over again.

She turned from Vernon and looked over at Harry. Harry reached out for her, with his bloody hand, “Aunt Petunia?” He said quietly. He started to feel very week, and slid back to the ground. She hurried over. “Harry,” she screamed, “Harry. No… NO!” Petunia hurried back to Uncle Vernon sat down on the driveway between them and she sobbed.

Harry was still conscious although he was seeing black spots. He felt his strength slowly leaving him as he bleed freely. He thought ironically ‘famous Harry Potter survived the worse dark wizard of all time only to be killed by Muggle madman in his own driveway.’

There were loud noises coming from somewhere, and then he heard a loud CRACK. Harry looked up to see Lupin standing over him. “Oh my God, Harry,” Lupin exclaimed. Aunt Petunia looked up startled at Lupin’s unexpected appearance and began to sob harder. Lupin bent down over Harry, and surveyed him quickly. “Harry, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” Harry managed in a whisper. The pain was almost unbearable. His leg felt like it was on fire and his stomach was worse.

“We are in trouble,” Lupin began. “Very big trouble.” Lupin mumbled an incantation and did something with his wand. “I’m calling for help. There will Death Eaters here any moment.” Lupin mumbled a few other spells that Harry couldn’t make out, but it seemed to slow down the bleeding. “That should stabilize you. Stay awake, Harry, you hear me… you stay awake.”

Harry heard several CRACKs and other wizards started appearing from all around them. The all wore death eater masks. Lupin stood over Harry. The spots were increasing in Harry’s vision and the pain was increasing. Harry was teetering on the edge of consciousness.

The Death Eaters approached. Lupin glanced between Harry and Petunia. Seeming to come to a decision, Lupin moved to stand himself firmly between the Death Eaters and Petunia, leaving Harry lying on the ground exposed.

The first Death Eater shot a spell at Harry which bounced off some kind of invisible shield. The other Death Eaters followed suit. The spells bounced off Harry and shot all over the place, hitting houses, cars, and one of the Death Eaters. It looked like a bizarre fireworks show.

One of the Death Eaters shouted, “We can’t touch Potter. Get the woman.”

Lupin was ready. “Protego” he shouted putting himself between the Death Eaters and Petunia. Lupin’s shield was blocking the spells toward Petunia, but he was outnumbered 10 to 1. Harry watched him stumble. He was still protecting Petunia from the onslaught of spells.

The noise level increased and Harry was aware of police cars pulling toward the house. Police officers ran into the fray. The Death Eaters changed targets and started shooting spells toward the officers. The officers were trying to attack Death Eaters physically, using night sticks and tazers. The Death Eaters were sending all sorts of curses their direction.

It gave Lupin a short break. Using what strength he had left, he picked up Aunt Petunia and heaved her back behind the car out of danger. Harry however was still lying in the middle of the driveway in the middle of the fray. Lupin saw Dudley crawl around the back of the car. He grabbed Harry foot and slowly pulled him away from the battle threatening to overtake him.

Harry was aware of himself being dragged, and looked up dazed to see Dudley. ‘Dudley’s helping me?’ he thought blearily.

Dudley slowly pulled Harry toward him until Harry was safely underneath the car. He crawled over to where Harry’s was lying and said, “You’ll be safe here, Harry. Hang on, the ambulance will be here any minute.”

There were a huge number of sharp cracks in the air, announcing the arrival of at least thirty more wizards. Harry view was now mostly blocked, but he saw Kinsley Shacklebolt and several other wizards he wasn’t familiar with running toward the Death Eaters.

It was chaos. From what Harry could tell, the police officers weren’t sure who they should be attacking. The wizards were dueling each other, with officers darting in between beating up on whomever got in their path. Several more loud sirens approached and there were more police officers arriving by the second. The more muggles appeared; the wizards appeared, until there were at least sixty people in the fray.

The noise was incredible. There were sirens, yelling, screaming, thuds, and spells being cast. It was an amazing light show as well. The spells, the lights of the police cars, and something that looked like a fire were lighting up the evening sky. And then Harry saw it, the Dark Mark overhead in the sky, hovering over the battle.

It seemed to be winding down. More cracks were heard as the remaining Death Eaters apparated away. Some wizards quickly ran toward the fire, while the others started stunning police officers. This started another fray between the police officers and the remaining wizards.

Someone appeared at Harry’s shoulder. It was a Muggle medic, carrying a hospital bag. He said gently to Harry, “Can you hear me, son?”

“Yes,” Harry grunted.

The medic began to place bandages on Harry’s leg and stomach while he was still lying under the car. The pain was unbearable. Harry screamed and shuttered. The medic said soothingly, “It’s okay, you’re going to be alright, just have to stop the bleeding. What’s your name kiddo?”

“Harry,” he answered.

“Hello Harry,” the medic continued calmly, “I’m just going to place an IV in your arm. It will help stabilize you from the blood loss. So, is this your house?”

“Yeah,” Harry grunted as the medic stuck a needle through his skin into a vein and connected a tube. “My Aunt’s and Uncle’s.”

“Where are your parents?” the medic asked while he was attaching a bag to the tube.

“They’re dead. They were murdered when I was baby.”

“You’re not especially lucky are you,” the medic said dryly. “How much to weight you suppose?”

“About 70 kilos”

The medic looked around and saw Dudley crouching nearby. “Hey kid,” the medic yelped. “Help me get him out of here, the ambulance is around the corner.

Dudley answered the medic panicked, “But my Dad, what about my Dad?” Dudley gestured toward where his father was lying.

“My partner is working on him, we’ll need a stretcher to get him out of here. If you help me, we can get Harry loaded and then get back with a stretcher for your Dad. Between the two of us we can get him loaded without a stretcher. It will save time.”

Dudley nodded. Harry felt himself being dragged out from under the car and hoisted up between the medic and Dudley. They hurried back around Privet Drive and Harry was quickly loaded into a waiting ambulance. As soon as Harry was loaded the medic grabbed a stretcher and he and Dudley were off again.

The medic called back over his head, “Call in for back-up, we’re going to need more ambulances, and then get going, he’s critical. We’ll load the other victim in the other ambulance. Go.”

Harry still clung to consciousness as another medic worked on him. The ambulance started to drive slowly away. And then after a few seconds the siren flipped on and they speed away from the scene.

The new medic was a woman. “What’s your name?” she asked while elevating the IV bag.

“Harry,” he said woozily. His vision began to swim slightly and stars seemed to flash around the periphery of his vision.

“What’s your last name?” she asked.

“Potter.” Harry croaked.

“What are your parents’ names?” she continued.

“James and Lily Potter.”

“What’s your home address?”

“Number 4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey.”

“What do your parents do for a living?”

“They don’t, they’re dead.”

“Who do you live with then?”

“My Aunt and Uncle. It was their house that this… happened.”

“I see,” she said, “What’s your phone number?”

Harry gave his phone number more woozily and then winced as his side gave a stab of pain.

“How old are you?”

“Fifteen,” Harry quietly replied, as though he were very far away.

“Stay with me Harry. Keep talking. Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No,” Harry answered, a little more lucidly.

“Any prospects?”

“Not likely, except… “ Harry drifted off…

“What Harry?” the medic said sharply. “Except what?”

“Hermione. Granger. Hermione Granger, she from London, she lives with her parents… Would you contact her when we get to the hospital?”

“Not your girlfriend though?”

“No, my friend…” Harry eyes drifted shut. “Please contact her. Tell her where I am. It’s important.”

“Alright, I’ll see that it gets done.”

Harry didn’t answer.

“Harry,” she said sharply, “Harry… stay with me.”

“Yeah…” Harry mumbled. “I’m here.”

“What’s Hermione’s phone number? I can’t get a hold of her without it.”

“I don’t know…” Harry drifted out again. The pain seemed to be lessening. “Pain going…” he mumbled.

“That’s the morphine kicking in. You’ll feel much more comfortable in a minute.”

“Okay…”

“Who are Hermione’s parents? You need to tell me. Harry. HARRY.” She spoke very loudly to him right in his ear.

Harry quietly told her their names. Then he drifted further. The pain was subsiding. “I can’t… stay awake…” He began to shiver.

“Just hold on, we’re here.” She covered him with another blanket and checked the dressings again. “We’re going to take you in to the ER now.”

Harry didn’t speak, the pain was almost entirely gone. They wanted him to stay awake. Lupin wanted him to stay awake. They moved him again into the hospital, where there were lots of bright lights.

Harry heard the medic speaking again. “Harry Potter, age fifteen, two gunshot wounds, one in the upper thigh, one in the lower left abdomen approximately thirty minutes ago, shock, lost significant amount of blood. I’ve given him fifty CC of Morphine, first bag of saline, lives with Aunt and Uncle, Vernon and Petunia Dursley. I’ve got the vitals written here”

Another voice answered, “He conscious though, that’s good.”

“Harry wants these people contacted.” She said handing a piece a paper over him. “More victims coming in, most likely the rest of his family. At least one more gunshot wound. Several officers were on the ground.”

There lights started to move and Harry realized he was moving again. The new voice said, “Harry, we’re taking you to the operating room. You’re going into emergency surgery to remove the bullets.”

“’kay…” Harry slurred.

Harry was wheeled into a room, and a new person began talking to him. “Harry, I’m John Wong, I’m your nurse anesthetist. Do you have any allergies? Are you taking any medicines?”

Harry just looked at him. The words registered, but he couldn’t answer.

“It’s going to be okay, Harry. I’m going to watch you through surgery. You’ll be okay. Dr. Hanne is going to operate on you. He’s a great surgeon.”

Harry nodded slightly.

“I’m going to put you to sleep now Harry.” A mask was lowered over Harry’s face and he finally drifted off into nothingness.

Harry drifted in and out of consciousness, never really waking up. He heard voices around him, monitors clicking, people coming in and out. He couldn’t wake up. Eventually, he finally decided to open his eyes. It was very bright. He flinched at the light and gave a little grunt. He tried to move his hand to rub his eye. But his hand wasn’t cooperating.

“Harry?” he heard an anxious voice to his left say, “Harry can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he croaked. Harry looked over, Mrs. Weasley was sitting next to him.

“Thank God. I was wondering when you were going to wake up. We’ve got to call Dumbledore. Bill, go, tell him Harry is awake.”

Harry watched Bill Weasley get up and leave the room giving Harry a relieved smile as he left.

“Where am I?” Harry whispered to Mrs. Weasley.

“You’re at St. Mary’s Hospital in Little Whinging, a Muggle hospital.”

“What happened?”

“You were shot by something the Muggles call a gun. You were brought here, they operated on you two days ago. You’ve been out since then.”

“Oh...” Harry drifted off again.

More time past. There were more voices, more people. He finally decided to see if Mrs. Weasley was still there. He opened his eyes, and croaked, “Mrs. Weasley?”

“No Harry,” came the reply. “It’s Hermione.”

Harry focused on her. Hermione and her mother were sitting next to him on two chairs near the bed. Harry saw Mad Eye Moody behind them playing chess with Ron’s father.

“Hermione,” Harry said, closing his eyes again. Then he opened them again after a few seconds. “Dr. Granger,” he said hoarsely.

“Hi Harry,” said Hermione’s mother quietly. “How do you feel?”

Harry let his eyes drift shut again. “Tired.”

“Do you know where you are?” Hermione’s mother continued.

“No,” Harry said wearily. “Wait,” he said again, “I’m in the hospital.”

“That’s good Harry,” she said. “Do you know what day it is?”

“No,” he said and his eyes drifted shut again.

“Are you in any pain?”

“No.”

“Good. Tell us if you are in pain. We can help. Hermione’s Dad and I are going to stay here in the hospital with you until you are well enough to be transferred to St. Mungo’s,” Dr. Granger said quietly.

“’kay,” Harry said drifting away again off into the nothingness.

More time past. More people. More sounds, lights, voices, nothingness, blackness. But sometime later, Harry felt stronger. He woke up and took in his surroundings. He saw Ron and Hermione’s Dad playing chess by the window. Tonks was reading a magazine in another chair.

“Hey mate,” Harry called to Ron weakly.

“Harry!” Ron turned and quickly walked over to Harry. Ron, Dr. Granger, and Tonks took places by his bed.

Hermione’s Dad looked at Tonks. “Tonks, run down and tell the nurses that Harry is awake.”

Tonks left the room quickly, and Dr. Granger continued. “Harry, do you know where you are?”

“I’m in the hospital in Little Whinging,” he replied looking at Dr. Granger.

“Do you know why you are here?”

Harry pondered this for awhile. “Yeah,” he said after a bit. “Some nutter shot me. My leg, my stomach.” Harry quickly looked down and saw bandages covering his leg and side of his chest.

“Uncle Vernon, Lupin, Dudley, Aunt Petunia,” Harry said in quick succession. “How are they?”

Dr. Granger ignored Harry’s question. “Do you know what day it is?”

“Er… No… no clue,” Harry answered.

“Who is the headmaster of your school?”

Harry looked puzzled at this question, “Dumbledore. Albus Dumbledore. What day is it anyway? And why does everyone keep asking me questions?”

Dr. Granger smiled. “It’s July 4th around 2:30 in the afternoon. We keep asking you questions to check your mental state. We just want to make sure that your injuries didn’t cause any brain trauma.”

“Brain trauma?” Harry asked. “You mean like brain damage?”

“I told them it was going to be hard to figure that out, mate” Ron smiled from behind Dr. Granger, “but they all insist on checking.”

Harry managed a smile for Ron. “Wait a minute, July 4th? That can’t be right; I just got back from Hogwarts.”

“That was three days ago Harry. You were shot in the evening of July 1st, your first day of vacation. You’ve been hospitalized for the last three days.”

“Three days ago.” Harry searched his murky brain. Those days were totally gone. Harry tried to shift himself in bed, but his leg was very heavy. All of a sudden he felt very weak, the act of moving had drained all of his energy.

“Harry, don’t try to move,” Dr. Granger said anxiously, “you need to get some more rest. You are safe here.”

Harry let himself drift off again. He rested peacefully this time. And when he woke up, it was dark. For the first time he feel really awake, like his brain worked. And for the first time he felt pain, a dull nagging pain in his leg and stomach.

He looked down at his leg. His leg was bound from the mid-calf all the way up the top of his thigh. It was suspended in a traction, hanging roughly 6 inches above the bed. Harry then inspected his aching side. There was a gauze pad over top of the left lower side, right over his hip. He was laying flat on his back with no pillow and he was quite uncomfortable. He tried to move, but found it very difficult. He saw Professor Lupin, Mr. Weasley, and Bill Weasley all dozing lightly in chairs around the room. Lupin was the closest.

“Professor Lupin,” Harry said. “Professor?”

Lupin woke up with a start. “Harry! How are you?”

Harry looked at him helplessly. “I’ve been better. What’s the day and time?” Harry attempted to move himself into a more comfortable position. His left arm was attached to an IV, his leg wouldn’t move at all, and there was some uncomfortable tube coming out of his nose.

“It’s around 10 pm, on July 4th.”

“Good, it’s still today. At least I haven’t lost anymore days. Do you think I could sit up?” Harry asked craning his neck around at Lupin.

Lupin looked very nervous. “Let me go grab a nurse. She’ll want to know that you’re awake.” Lupin stood and walked out into the hallway. He returned a moment later with a nurse. She was a young woman, pretty, with light brown hair.

“Hi Harry, I’m Marsha, I’m your nurse. You’ve given us quite a fright. How are you feeling?”

“I’m pretty uncomfortable. Could I sit up?”

“Sure, let me help. We’ll need to keep your leg elevated until the swelling goes down. It might not be too comfortable with your side. Let me know if it hurts okay?”

Harry nodded his agreement and she started working the bed until he was in a semi-sitting position. He wanted to sit up further, but it hurt his side too much.

“Are you thirsty? I could get you some apple juice,” the nurse asked cheerfully.

“Yes, thank you.” She left the room. The Weasleys were up and the three men took sitting positions around Harry’s bed.

“Molly’s going to be so relieved to know you’re awake, Harry. You gave us quite a scare,” Mr. Weasley said.

“Yeah,” Bill continued. “I don’t think I’ve seen Mom so upset.”

The nurse returned with the apple juice. “Go easy on that Harry. You haven’t had anything to eat or drink in quite awhile. I’m going to go give your doctor a call and let him know that you’re awake. How’s the pain?”

“My leg and side ache, but it’s not horrible,” Harry answered.

“You can have more pain meds in an hour. We cut back the pain killers to bring you back around. They had to give a rather large dose of anesthesia to complete your surgery. It took you quite awhile to come out of it.” Harry noticed that Lupin looked at hands guiltily.

“How long am I going to be here?” he asked the nurse blankly.

“I’m not exactly sure. Another few days at least,” she answered.

“What all is wrong with me?” Harry asked.

“Well,” the nurse began. “What do you remember?”

“I was shot, in the leg and the side, by some nutter that my Uncle knows,” Harry began. He remembered the rest of the night fairly well, but he was in a Muggle hospital.

“Yes you were shot, twice, once in the upper right thigh, once in the lower left abdomen. The bullet in your leg shattered your femur bone, and implanted into the muscle behind the bone. The abdominal wound was more serious. It went right through you, piercing the intestines, and it hit a large artery. It is amazing that you didn’t bleed to death.” Lupin was still looking at his hands. “You were in shock when you were brought in and you were rushed into surgery. Your doctor will be in tomorrow morning and give you all the details. There are some more matters that need to be cleared up, but I’ll let your friends here fill you in.” The nurse looked at them expectantly.

Harry looked at her and then to the men in the room, and it dawned on him. “My Aunt and Uncle and Dudley. How are they?”

Arthur Weasley looked into his hands as well. “They’re all alive Harry. No one from your family was killed in the attack. Your cousin Dudley is shaken, but he’s fine. He’s with your Aunt Marge at your house on Privet Drive. But neither your Aunt nor your Uncle is well. Your Uncle Vernon was shot several times and from what I understand is in critical condition. He’s just down the hall from you. No one is sure if he is going to pull through. If he does make it through, there will probably be permanent damage. Your Aunt, well…” he looked at the nurse, “how do I put this… She was unharmed physically, but she was in hysterics and they couldn’t calm her. She is in another ward, sedated. She doesn’t seem quite there, if you get my meaning.”

The nurse continued, “That leaves us with a bit of a problem Harry. Your legal guardians are both indisposed, and you do not have another legal guardian. Your Uncle’s sister, Marge Dursley found a copy of your Aunt and Uncle will. She was named as guardian for your cousin Dudley, but they didn’t name a guardian for you. Miss Dursley has specifically stated that she will not extend the spirit of the will to include you as her ward. Do you have any other family?”

Harry sighed, “No, I don’t. I don’t know much about my father’s family, but I assume that they are all dead.” He looked at Lupin for confirmation. Lupin nodded. “My mother was Aunt Petunia sister. At the time of my mother’s death, Aunt Petunia was my mother’s only living relative.”

“So you don’t have anyone who could legally step in and claim guardianship over you?” the nurse asked pointedly.

Harry looked at Mr. Weasley for help.

“There are people who would willingly step in for Harry,” Mr. Weasley said, “but I don’t know about the legality of it. My wife and I are more than willing to become Harry’s legal guardians, but we are not related to Harry.”

The nurse sighed and looked tired, “You and your whole family have been wonderful Mr. Weasley, I would wish nothing more than to have Harry be your ward, but the law is the law. Without a relative, Harry will become a ward of the state, at least until either his Aunt or Uncle recovers. We’ve already been in contact with social services, they’ll send a case worker down tomorrow.” She looked over at Harry. “It’s not really so bad, and besides it’s only until your Aunt recovers. I’ll be back in an hour or so with your meds.” With that she left leaving a thoroughly exhausted, confused Harry.

Bill stood up and pushed his chair away and exclaimed angrily, “What a bloody mess this is!” Lupin dropped his head into his hands, and Arthur Weasily pushed back and slouched in his chair. Bill turned to his father, “Why don’t we create a Portkey and get him out of here, Dad. This is ridiculous.”

Harry looked over at them and realized he had a whole lot of questions, the first one was, “What am I doing in a Muggle hospital?”

Mr. Weasely looked at Lupin. “You were there for the whole thing Remus, why don’t you fill him in.”

Lupin sighed, took a deep breath and began talking.

“From what I understand, you and your Uncle were shot by a Muggle whom your Uncle had fired from the company he works for, Gruntings, or something like that. This man was seriously depressed and blamed all his problems on your Uncle. I arrived shortly after the shooting, after you had already stunned the Muggle.”

Harry interrupted, “Where is he now?”

Lupin continued, “He is in Muggle custody. He will be tried in Muggle court for attempted murder on your whole family. If your Uncle dies, the charges will be more serious, but that’s another matter. After I arrived, I stabilized you.”

Arthur put in, “Which is why you didn’t bleed to death laying the pavement.”

“But also why the needed to extra sedation in the operating room, and why you haven’t come around sooner.” Lupin went on, “We have known for a long time that your house at Privet Drive is constantly being watched by death eaters. As soon as I saw the situation, I knew that Death Eaters would be arriving shortly afterward, to maximize on the confusion and try to get you away for the Dursleys. I don’t know if you know, but while you are at the Dursley’s, Voldemort and his supporters cannot touch you. It has something to do with your mother’s sacrificing herself to save you. They tried to curse you, but the spells rebounded. Your family was another matter. Your Aunt became the target next. I shielded her as best as I could, but I am not sure if I was entirely successful. I’m worried that some of the spells hit her, which is why she is in such a bad way now.” He took a significant pause. “The Muggle police arrived next. They saw the Death Eater attacking me and went after them. It gave me time to get your Aunt out of harms way. But many officers fell. I don’t know how many were killed or injured.” Lupin stopped and shook his head. “It was such a massacre. Muggles taking on Death Eaters with only nightsticks! Then the ministry Aurors arrived. They began fighting the Death Eaters with more success, but the Muggle officers couldn’t distinguish between them. The Muggles wandered through the din randomly attacking wizards from both sides. Eventually the Death Eaters gave up and left, after starting your neighbor’s house on fire and firing the dark mark into the sky. The Aurors tried to secure the situation by stunning all the Muggles on the scene.”

“That’s standard practice for such a large breach of secrecy,” Mr. Weasley put in.

“The Muggle police officers began attacking the Aurors again. They called in for back-up and they brought in a SWAT team, with all sorts of guns. It took another half an hour for the Aurors to subdue the Muggle police. Several Aurors and Muggle police were killed.” Lupin paused again.

Mr. Weasley started talking then. “It was the largest breach of the statute of secrecy I’ve ever seen. The Ministry still hasn’t finished cleaning it up. It could take weeks.”

“Why?” Harry mumbled

Mr. Weasley sighed. “Between the fire, the spells, the dark mark, the Muggle police deaths, there are a significant number of Muggles involved. Estimates put it at somewhere around 1000 Muggles are somehow involved. Pretty much anyone who lives within a mile of you, Harry needed a memory charm.”

Lupin picked up again. “In the middle of all of this, the Muggle healers showed up. Your cousin had pulled you out of danger Harry, underneath your Uncle’s car. I was trapped behind the car, protecting your aunt and I couldn’t see what was going on. Before I knew what was happening, your cousin and the healer had you loaded in a Muggle vehicle and were speeding you here. By the time we arrived at the hospital to get you, you were already in surgery. They had assessed who you were, that you lived with your Aunt and Uncle, and your parents were deceased. While you were in surgery, your Aunt and Uncle were brought in, both in no condition to make any decisions for you. The hospital has been providing your care in the manner they believe is correct given certain Muggle laws. Upon the insistence of Dumbledore, and due to the fact that you were almost murdered, they allowed us to guard you. You are safe here, now. Dumbledore has placed certain protections around the hospital, and there are also 2 Muggle guards at the door to this ward. To be safe, there have also been at least 2 or 3 Order members around at all times. Do you remember asking for the hospital to contact Hermione when you got here?”

Harry nodded.

“That was very smart, and our only saving grace. Per your request, the hospital staff contacted the Grangers. They arrived shortly after you got out of surgery. They are both familiar with Muggle medicine, and since you requested them, the hospital staff has been deferring to them for all the major decisions on your care. They have been acting as your de-facto guardians. It was them who got the rest of us in to see you. The hospital would have forced us away otherwise.”

“But why don’t you just take me out of here?” Harry said, wincing slightly at the growing pain in his side and leg. “Can’t Madam Pomfrey or someone at St. Mungo’s just fix me up?”

“Well, that’s a sticky situation Harry,” Lupin said.

“Why, Professor?” Harry asked tiredly.

“By the time we arrived, you were in surgery. You had been in Muggle care, filled with Muggle potions. We don’t know how magical potions react with the Muggle potions. At that point, our interference might have killed you. Since your family was all here, we knew that we could secure you here and we didn’t feel that moving you was a good idea. And then there was the matter of guardianship.”

“Huh?”

Mr. Weasley picked up, “Harry, whether you like or not, your Aunt Petunia is your legal guardian, both in the Magic world and the Muggle world. We can’t take you out of the hospital without her permission. Removing you from the hospital would be kidnapping.”

Harry’s head began to swim. “So you can’t take me to St. Mungo’s because of bunch of Muggle laws? Do you have any idea how much this hurts?”

Mr. Weasley continued, “I’m sorry Harry, but it’s not just Muggle Laws, Magic laws as well. If we did take you out of here to St. Mungo’s, we wouldn’t be able to treat you unless we had permission from your guardian. And we’d still be kidnapping you, taking you away from your family without their permission is also kidnapping in the Magic World. Except in the Magic world, you’re famous and it wouldn’t go unnoticed.”

Bill put in, “You can just picture the headline in the Daily Prophet, ‘The Boy Who Lived, Kidnapped by Ministry Employee, Werewolf, and Gringotts Charm Beaker’. They would have a field day with it.”

Harry all of sudden felt very tired, Bill had a point. “I guess I’m stuck then.” His leg throbbed and his side ached.

Lupin stood up next to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He said in a very soothing voice, “It’s going to be alright Harry, just rest. We’ll get it all figured out in the morning.”

Harry nodded as he felt himself ebbing away again into the blackness, and he knew no more.

The next day Harry woke up to find a new group of people in his room including Professor Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasley, Ron, Hermione, and Hermione’s mum, the female Dr. Granger.

“Morning,” Harry said, looking around at them.

“Oh Harry,” Mrs. Weasley smiled. “It’s good to see you again. You had us quite worried.”

Dr. Granger sat down next to Harry and smiled at him, “Good morning Harry, do you know where you are?”

“Yes, I’m in the hospital in Little Whinging.”

Dr. Granger continued, “Do you know what day it is?”

“I’m hoping it’s July 5th.”

She smiled back at him. “It is, that’s good. How’s the pain?”

“Not bad, it’s been worse.”

“Yes, Hermione’s told me about your previous scrapes. From what I can gather, this is the fifth time you’ve been in death’s way.”

“Huh?”

“I mean this is the fifth time in fifteen years that you have almost been killed. Am I right?”

Ron piped up, “I think it’s more than that, mate. Quirrell your first year, the Basilisk the second, the Dementors your third, you also fell, what a hundred feet from your broomstick that year? And then there was the end of the fourth year, the end of fifth year. This one would make seven.”

Hermione chimed in, “Eight actually, don’t forget the attack on you when you were a baby.”

A new nurse popped in, “Good morning Harry, I’m Jane, I’ll be your nurse today. Would you like some breakfast?”

“That’d be great. Thanks.”

The nurse continued, “Dr. Hanne will be making rounds shortly and will be stopping to see you soon. There is also someone from the social services office who will be in later this morning as well. “

Harry nodded to show he understood, and the nurse left. Harry sighed and closed his eyes. This was ridiculous.

“Harry,” Dumbledore began gently, “there are some matters we need to discuss, if you feel up to it.”

“What do we need to discuss, professor?” Harry said, not opening his eyes again.

Dumbledore sighed, “Many things Harry. A great many things, and there is not much time.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked over at Dumbledore, who seemed worried. “What is it?”

“I need to know certain details about the attack at Privet Drive. Professor Lupin has provided me information from the time that he arrived. Would you please tell me the detail leading up to the attack and then to the point where Professor Lupin arrived?”

Harry hadn’t thought about the attack. What did he remember? Flashes of the battle began floating through his head. What he could remember seemed jumbled and hazy. “Er…” Harry began. “I’m not sure if I can remember everything.”

“Just give me what you can. There are pieces to this that are puzzling to me, and I need more information.” Dumbledore looked intent, but his gaze was gentle. “I know that you are tired Harry, but you are the only one who saw the original attack.”

Harry sighed, and then nodded, “I was getting my trunk out of the car when a man came up the driveway and started talking to Uncle Vernon. Something about him seemed odd, out of place. I started to pull my wand out of my pocket, but I held back because I was in the Muggle world. He pulled a gun on Uncle Vernon, and started to rant about how horrible his life was and that it was my Uncle’s fault.”

Harry paused here and thought, “Then he just shot me, he didn’t even look at me, in the middle of the row with my Uncle he just shot me. I wasn’t ready, and it happened so fast. It was strange, surreal. I pulled out my wand then and tried to stun him, but I missed. He didn’t even look at me or seem to notice that a spell had almost hit him. He then shot at everyone, Uncle Vernon, me, Aunt Petunia, Dudley. Aunt Petunia and Dudley were behind the car and they didn’t get hurt, I don’t think. But both Uncle Vernon and I were hit again. I fell then, but I did manage to get a stunner off and it took him down…”

Harry paused to think some more. For some reason he felt very numb about this whole event, like someone else had experienced it and he was watching it like a bad dream. “Professor Lupin arrived very soon after that, before the Death Eaters came,” Harry lapsed into silence.

The whole room was watching Harry very intently, waiting for him to continue, when he didn’t, Professor Dumbledore said gently, “Do you remember anything else?”

Harry racked his brain, “I remember Dudley pulling me under the car, and being brought here, I remember going into surgery.”

“What else do you remember before you loaded were loaded in the ambulance?” Dumbledore continued.

“It was loud, and bright, like fireworks going off. Was there a fire? I think something was on fire. The Dark Mark, there was the Dark Mark in the air.”

“Harry this is very important. What do you remember about the gunman?”

“Er... What do you mean?”

“What do you remember about the man who shot you, before you stunned him?”

“Er… He was wearing a long coat and a hat. It was very hot outside, so it seemed really out of place. He said his name, but I can’t remember it.”

“Ned Rivers is his name. Did he ever look at you? Did you see his eyes?”

“No, he didn’t ever really look at me. Not even when he shot me. He just kept raving at Uncle Vernon.”

“He didn’t look at you when you shot the stunning spell at him?”

“No, he didn’t seem to notice.”

“Should he have noticed?”

“What?”

“Was the spell close enough that he should have been aware it?”

“Huh?”

“Let me put it another way. If you had shot Ron with that curse while he was talking to Hermione here, would Ron have noticed?”

“Definitely. Ron would have noticed. It was fairly close. I thought it grazed him.”

“And you never saw his eyes?”

“No… Professor, what are you getting at?”

Dumbledore looked down at his hands. “Harry, the events at the end of last year did not turn out favorably for Voldemort. His primary attempt failed, but we assumed that he has some sort of secondary plan in the works. We know that there were Death Eaters watching your house during parts of last year. We also know that your Uncle and Ned Rivers worked together, and your Uncle worked to have him fired. What we don’t know is if this was a random act of one mentally deranged man, which the Death Eaters capitalized on, or if the gunman was in league with Voldemort.”

Harry sighed. His hollowness was returning. He found that he didn’t really care one way or the other. It didn’t really change things. It didn’t change the fact that his life would either include or end in murder. It didn’t change the fact that now everyone who had been a parent to him were either dead or seriously injured. And there was pain, pain in his side, pain in his leg. Harry closed his eyes.

“Harry,” Dumbledoor said gently again. “Are you in pain?”

Harry nodded, and wished nothing more than to drop off into the blackness that shrouded his last days. Pictures began to creep in from the corners of his brain. Uncle Vernon bleeding on the ground, Lupin shielding Aunt Petunia, Ron covered in brains, Hermione collapsing in the Department of Mysteries, Sirius falling through the veil, Cedric lying spread eagle in the graveyard. Harry tried to control them, he tried to find the numbness again, but the emotion was overwhelming. It was threatening to overtake him.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said more gently, “Can you look at me?”

Harry opened his eyes and looked at Dumbledore. He looked so kind, so sad, that Harry couldn’t take it. The emotions washed over him like a wave. Harry turned his head and quickly turned away. He couldn’t stop it, the tears were coming now. Harry tried to angrily brush them away with his hands, but more came. He wished they’d just stop looking at him. He wished they’d all just go away. It was too much.

Mrs. Weasley came forward, took Harry’s hand, and sat down on the bed next to him. “You’ve been through a lot Harry. Don’t be ashamed, it’s okay. I’m here. I’ll always be here for you.”

Harry looked at Mrs. Weasley, she had tears in her eyes too.

“I would take away your pain if I could, Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley soothed. “All of us would. You’ve been through so much. We didn’t want to put you through anything more, and then 3 hours after leaving us, you were hurt again. I never should have let you go. I should have brought you straight back to the Burrow with us, where you belong. I’m so sorry, Harry. I’m so sorry.”

Harry’s tears turned into whimpering, the whimpering to crying, the crying to wailing. It all hurt so much. Mrs Weasley stroked his head while he sobbed.

“I can’t do this, I can’t do this, I can’t do this. Professor Dumbledore, I can’t do this,” Harry sobbed, looking at the headmaster imploringly. “He’s taken everything, my Mum, my Dad, Cedric, Sirius, and now maybe my Aunt and Uncle too. I can’t do this. Why me? Why not Neville? It could have been him. Why does it have to me?” Harry stopped talking, but the sobs continued for several more minutes.

After Harry stopped crying, he felt exhausted. He closed his eyes and wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep.

“Harry dear,” Mrs. Weasley said quietly, “the doctor is here to see you. Would you like us to stay, or go?”

“Stay,” Harry said opening his eyes, “You are the only family that I have now.”

“Now that’s not very optimistic,” said a new voice coming into the room. “In medical school, they always told us that humans are remarkable and there is always hope as long as your patient is still alive. Your Uncle may not be in good shape, but there is no reason to believe that is going to die. I’m Dr. Hanne, Harry. I operated on you 4 days ago. As for you Aunt, time will probably do more for her than any medicine. From what I understand she is suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. It’s going to take her some time, but they expect her to make a full recovery. How are you doing? Are the nurses treating you okay? They can be dodgy at times.”

Harry nodded but didn’t say anything.

“How’s your pain? We had a decrease your pain meds yesterday. Your operation did not go smoothly. For awhile there thought that we were going to lose you. I’ve never seen anything like it. You required twice the normal amount of anesthesia for your size to keep you from waking up during surgery. You almost woke twice. But then just as we were finishing up, the anesthesia finally seemed to function correctly, and your heart rate and breathing plummeted. There were a few anxious moments where we thought you might stop breathing altogether, but you fought through.

“You really didn’t wake up much the next two days. Your body had gone through too much trauma. When on the third day, you still weren’t coming around for more than a few minutes at a time; we decided to cut back on your pain killers. They can make you very sleepy.”

“What’s Harry prognosis, doctor?” Dr. Granger asked.

“It’s good,” Dr. Hanne turned to look at her. “We still have him classified in serious condition, but he’s young and a fighter. I would guess that he will be upgraded to fair condition sometime today or tomorrow. He will make a full recovery, but the leg is going to require some more surgeries at a later date. Part of the bone is simply gone. I removed several fragments and closed the wound, but I didn’t fix the break. An orthopedist will have to do that as soon as Harry will be able to tolerate another surgery.”

Harry remembered the night in the hospital wing growing his arm bones back, and wished that Madam Pomfrey was here right now. She’d fix him right up.

“What about the abdominal wound? Will that cause any long term problems?” Dr. Granger asked.

“It shouldn’t. It didn’t hit anything vital, just some intestines, and some muscle, which we removed. It shouldn’t be a problem later; his small intestine and colon are just shorter than they used to be. The biggest problem was that it bled a lot. We estimated that Harry lost roughly thirty percent of his blood volume. I still can’t believe that he was conscious when they brought him in. The secondary problem from this wound is the possibly for an infection. His intestines where ruptured which means that toxins could have leaked into his blood stream. But if that had happened, he would be running a fever by now.”

“How long will I have to be here?” Harry asked the doctor.

“I’m not sure, it will depend on how quickly you recover. Your body has some major healing to do. You still essentially have a hole from your front to your back. You’re not going anywhere until we’re sure it will heal completely without infection. There are other non-medical complications as well. Right now, we don’t have anyone to discharge you to. Your guardians are in no condition to care for you, and you don’t have any other family to step in. Social services is working on that one. They’ll be around later today. I’m sure they’ll have something figured out. You’ll probably go home with one of your friends,” he gestured to Ron and Hermione.

The doctor paused and took a more serious tone. “There are a few other things I need to ask you, Harry.” Dr. Hanne said, “that scar on your forehead is a result of…?”

“The car accident that killed my parents, I was just over a year old.”

The doctor nodded, “What about the scar on your arm?”

“Er.. what scar?”

The doctor walked over and pointed to where the Wormtail’s blade pierced his arm 2 years ago in the graveyard. It was the only wound that Harry had received since his start at Hogwarts that hadn’t been magically healed. “That’s looks like a knife wound. You were stabbed, weren’t you?”

Harry faltered, “Er…Yeah, I guess so.”

“Who stabbed you?”

Harry looked around the room for help. None was forthcoming. “Umm… well… it was an accident.”

The doctor looked doubtful, “You were accidentally stabbed?”

Harry looked down and mumbled, “Yeah, pretty stupid really.”

“You also have a scar on the back of your hand. It says, ‘I shall not tell lies’. It’s faded now, but when you were brought in it was very visible, probably due to the blood loss.”

Harry glanced down at his hand. Sure enough, the scar resulting from Dolores Umbrigde’s detention last year was showing up quite nicely on the back of his hand. Harry looked back at the doctor. He didn’t know what to say. He just shrugged.

“Not going to tell me huh?” The doctor looked sad. “Were you aware that your Aunt and Uncle were reported to social services by two of your grammar school teachers for suspected neglect?”

Harry looked up surprised, “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Your living situation was found marginally acceptable, not good, but not bad enough to warrant you becoming a ward of the state. From what I understand, if you would have had any other living relatives, they would have moved you. So, are you going to tell me how you got these wounds?” The doctor pressed.

“Er…well… I know it looks fishy, but these were just accidents, really.” Harry knew that he wasn’t being nearly convincing enough.

“You accidentally had someone cut I shall not tell lies in your hand, or was it a brand?”

“Yeah, that’s pretty tough to explain,” Harry admitted. “But it wasn’t my Aunt and Uncle who did it.”

“So who did?”

“Er… well…” Harry lapsed again into silence. He shifted his position a bit and his side gave an unpleasant stab of pain. “Aahh,” Harry winced.

“Are you okay?” the doctor asked.

“I’m okay. Listen doctor, the Dursley’s are not responsible for my injuries. I’m just accident prone. I will admit that the Dursley’s never wanted me and there is not much love between us. When I’m of age, I’m leaving and will probably never be back. But they never physically hurt me,” Harry said to the doctor truthfully.

“So you’re accident prone?” Dr. Hanne said doubtfully.

“Yes, I’m very accident prone. Just ask Ron,” Harry answered, glancing over to Ron standing behind his mother.

The doctor looked over to Ron and raised his eyebrows, silently asking Ron for confirmation.

Ron spoke carefully, “Trouble always seems to find Harry. I can’t count the number of times I’ve had to drag him to the nurse at school.”

“So you can you tell me where Harry got all of his scars?” Dr. Hanne asked Ron pointedly.

“Well, the forehead scar has been there since I’ve known him. I’m not exactly sure about the scar on his arm. That could have been from that time we got into a fight with Malfoy. He’s a little ferret that one. Or Harry may have cut himself at lunch, when he was ogling over Cho Chang, she’s in a year at school. Harry fancied her last year.”

Ron’s words had the desired effect, the doctor smiled despite himself.

Ron continued, “As for the scar on his hand, we had this really horrible teacher last year, who took a dislike to Harry. It didn’t matter what Harry said or did, she had it out for him. She had some pretty gruesome punishments for students she didn’t like. I’m pretty sure that it was her who gave Harry the scar on his hand.”

Dumbledore spoke up at this point, “Harry, did Professor Umbrigde do that to you?”

Harry looked at Dumbledore and nodded slightly.

“Why didn’t you ever say anything to me?” Dumbledore asked.

“I didn’t want to give her the satisfaction,” Harry admitted.

“So you let her cut your hand?” Mrs. Weasley said outraged. She rounded on Dumbledore, “How could let this happen? They are supposed to be learning, not being tortured.”

“I assure you Molly that if I had known about Professor Umbrigde’s actions I would have stopped them immediately.” Professor Dumbledore continued, “She will not be returning this year.”

Harry noticed Hermione’s smile at this comment. The doctor looked a bit more satisfied, but not convinced.

Dr. Hanne continued, “Alright Harry. I’ll drop it for now, but you’re on my radar. If you ever show up at my door with more strange injuries, I’m going to call social services myself.”

Ron piped up, “Don’t worry, he will. That’s just Harry.”

The doctor smiled at Ron, and then turned back to Harry. “You can have as much pain medicine as you need, be sure to ask the nurses for it. There is no reason you need to be in pain. I’ll be back to see you tomorrow, Harry.”

“Thanks Doctor,” Harry said closing his eyes again.

Harry hadn’t meant to, but he fell asleep almost immediately. He dozed lightly, until he heard Mrs. Weasley calling his name again.

“Harry, dear? Can you wake up? The woman from social services is here to see you.”

Harry reluctantly opened his eyes. In the room were Dr. Granger, Mrs. Weasley, Professor Dumbledore and a pleasant looking woman wearing a badge.

“Hi Harry,” said the new face. “I’m Melinda Bywater. I’ve been assigned to work on your case. Do you understand why I’m here?”

Harry sighed, “My Aunt and Uncle are incapacitated, and I don’t have anyone else to speak for me as my guardian.”

She smiled a grim apologetic smile, “Yes, it seems ironic that the time you need your family the most they aren’t able to be around.”

Harry thought ‘Like they ever had been before’, but he said, “Yes, ironic.”

“I have done some research into your case in the last few days. It’s been frustrating pulling your paperwork. I can’t find much information about your father. I have more information about your Mum, but that’s still limited. There are large holes in your file. I have a birth certificate for you, with some court documents giving Petunia Dursley full custody of you. I don’t have a copy of your parent’s will, so I can’t make a judgment on their intentions, should Mrs. Dursley no longer be able to care for you. There is no mention of you in Mrs. Dursley’s will so I can’t make a judgment on that either. So I’m left only one option. Where do you want to go?”

“What?” Harry said in surprise. “What do you mean?”

“Since there is no clear indication what your parents or Aunt wanted for you given the circumstances that have arisen, I am asking you what you want. You are almost sixteen, and you should have a say. Where do you want to live? I can’t guarantee that it will work out, but we can try.”

“That’s easy,” Harry started, “Sir…” Harry had just about said Sirius, completely forgetting that he was dead. The two hours that he thought he was going to go live with Sirius were some of happiest moments he’d ever had. Now that he could be free of the Dursley’s and live with Sirius, Sirius was gone forever. It was like losing him all over again.

“Oh Harry,” Mrs. Weasley said, sitting down next to him again. “I’m so sorry.”

“I’m sorry?” the social worker said looking confused.

“Harry’s godfather just recently passed away,” Mrs. Weasley said delicately. “He and Harry were very close.”

“I’m so sorry Harry,” Melinda said, looking at him with concern. “You’ve been through a lot lately, huh?”

Harry just nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

Dumbledore spoke up, “I was a close friend to the Potter family, Harry’s parents, and grandparents. I have also spoken with many of Harry’s friends and their families. Together we think that it would be wise for Harry to live with the Grangers until such time as his Aunt Petunia is able. If that is acceptable to you Harry?”

Harry looked over at Dumbledore. He would have said the Weasleys, not the Grangers. He liked Hermione very much, but he had never spent anytime with her parents. For that matter, Hermione hadn’t spent much time with them in the last couple of years either. Harry looked more intently at Dumbledore, who gave him a slight nod with a stern look asking him to agree.

Harry was confused, but recovered quickly. He looked at Dr. Granger and then at Mrs. Weasley. They both were smiling and nodding at him. “That’s all right by me, if it’s all right with the Grangers?”

Dr. Granger said smiling happily, “We would love to have you Harry. You can stay with us for the rest of the summer.”

“Well all right then, it’s settled,” the social worker said brightly, “I’ll get the paperwork going. I’ll need you to fill out some forms for me Dr. Granger. If you walk down to the nurse’s station with me I’ll get a copy of your driver’s license and I’ll get the background check started.” They left the room together.

Harry looked up at Dumbledore and asked. “Why do you want me to go to Hermione’s parents? I figured that I’d go back to the Burrow?

Dumbledore sighed, “Arthur and Molly Weasley cannot act as your guardians in the Muggle world, Harry. They don’t exist in the Muggle world.”

Mrs. Weasley put in, “We don’t have Muggle identification cards, or Muggle money. We don’t receive Muggle post or have a Muggle feletone. The Muggles have many requirements for becoming the legal guardian of a minor. Arthur and I wouldn’t qualify. We can’t even prove to the Muggles that Arthur has a job. The Grangers and Arthur and I decided yesterday that they will act as your guardians in the muggle world, but that you’ll spend the rest of the summer at Number 12, Grimmauld Place, with us. Arthur and I would love nothing more for you to come live with us permanently, but you have a life in the Muggle world, and need a Muggle guardian.”

“I never really had a life in the Muggle world. My only connections to it are the Dursleys. I meant what I said to the doctor, as soon as I turn seventeen, I’m leaving and I’m not coming back.”

For some reason that made Mrs. Weasley look very sad. “They’re your family Harry, families are supposed to stick together.”

Harry thought for a moment and then could have kicked himself. That is exactly what Percy had just done to her, left and never came back.

Harry looked down, ashamed, “I’m sorry Mrs. Weasley.”

“It’s okay Harry. I’m sure the Dursley’s love you in their own way.”

“Well, maybe,” Harry conceded out loud, but in his head he thought, ‘but I seriously doubt it.’

The day passed quietly. Harry dozed on and off all day long. There was a constant shuffle of the people in and out of his room. Nurses came and went fairly often bringing him food, medicines, and checking his vital signs. They seemed to be satisfied with his progress. Later that afternoon, he overheard the nurse talking Hermione’s mum, they had changed his status from serious to fair.

There were a constant stream of witches and wizards in and out of his room. There were always three to four order members around. They came and went every few hours. Most of them, Harry didn’t know. One of Hermione’s parents was always around. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were also around most of the day. Ron and Hermione stayed most of the day as well. Hermione apparently had gotten a couple new course books and was already reading for next year. Ron passed his time by challenging almost everyone to a game of Muggle chess, though it took him awhile to get used to moving the pieces himself.

Ron was apparently quite good. Harry knew that Ron was a good chess player, Harry had never beaten him, ever. Ron had played the giant chess set to get to the Sorcerers Stone his first year, which everyone said was a big feat.

Harry hadn’t realized how good Ron was until one of the Order members commented to about it to Mr. Weasley. “That youngest boy of yours Arthur, he has great talent at chess. What line of work do you think he’s going to pursue?”

Mr. Weasley smiled, the pride evident, “He wants to become an Auror.”

The Order member smiled back, “Good luck to him, with his tactical ability, I’d say he’d make a good one.”

After dozing for awhile, Harry opened his eyes to find Ron sitting next to him. “Hey mate,” Harry said and smiled at him.

“Hi Harry,” Ron said returning the smile. “How are you feeling?”

Harry looked him darkly, “Like I want to curse the next person who asks me that question.”

Ron smiled, “I can bring in Malfoy for you.”

“Nah, bring in Goyle, my aim is slipping, I need to practice on a bigger target.”

Ron laughed, “I have to admit, Harry, you have to be the unluckiest person I know. I mean you always were unlucky, but getting attacked in the Muggle world. That’s has to be the worst luck of anyone.”

George appeared at Ron’s shoulder, “Bad Karma, Harry.”

Fred appeared at Ron’s other shoulder, “It will come back to haunt you someday, mate.”

“Someday?” Harry asked, “I think I’m being haunted now.”

“Just as long as it’s not by Moaning Myrtle,” Ron said with a slight grin.

Harry sniggered in spite of himself.

Harry heard Mrs. Weasley coming into the room. “Harry, dear, how are you?” She sat down in a chair next to his bed.

Harry thought about it, “Not bad really. I feel stronger somehow.”

Fred grinned at him, “Dumbledore slipped you some blood restoring potion before he left.”

Mrs. Weasley looked aghast, “He did not. Did he?” She looked sharply at Fred.

“Of course not,” Fred answered, “that was me.” His mother shot him a look of pure horror, and Fred backed off, “I didn’t Mum really, it’s okay. We might have fed Harry a few canary creams last year, but we would never really hurt him, Ron on the other hand…”

Ron looked over at his brother quickly and scowled.

“Well you got made a prefect, you prat. Next thing, you’ll be made Head Boy. You can’t expect George and me to take that lying down,” Fred joked.

“That would be wonderful if Ron was made Head Boy,” their mother retorted to Fred. “He would be the third in the family.”

“It’ll be Harry anyway,” Ron said. “Dumbledore will make him Head Boy for sure.”

Harry thoughts drifted back to the prophesy. He sighed audibly. They all looked over at him. Dumbledore’s words came back ‘I think you have enough to be getting on with.’ Harry closed his eyes. “It won’t be me, mate.”

Ron looked a bit concerned with the sudden change in Harry’s demeanor, “Why not?”

Harry had an urge to tell Ron and his family the contents of the prophesy, but the urge fell quickly away. How do you tell someone that your destiny is either to kill Voldemort or die? “Trust me, it won’t be me.”

Ron was still looking concerned, so Harry added, “It wouldn’t be either of us anyway, it will probably be Ernie McMillin of Hufflepuff, or worse Malfoy. Besides it’s still a year away.” Harry finished his thought in his head, ‘and I may not even be alive in two years.”

They were interrupted by an orderly bringing in some new supplies for the room, new bedding by the looks of it. He smiled slightly at them and then left without saying a word.

“So how’s business?” Harry asked to the twins as soon as the orderly had left.

The change in topic has the effect Harry wanted. The twins had a lively discourse about their new booming business, ‘Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes’, which both Mrs. Weasley and Ron had many questions and opinions about. The discussion became almost entirely a family affair, with Harry muttering a few words here and there so that he wouldn’t have to become more involved.

Since waking that morning, Harry was in an emotionally raw state. Just about every conservation he had in the last twelve hours had involved something emotionally traumatic to him; Sirius’s death, the prophesy, the attack at Privet Drive, his fractured relationship with his Aunt and Uncle. It was getting late, and Harry was hoping that everyone would leave for the evening so he could get some rest.

Harry finally stopped pretending to be interested in Fred and George’s enterprises, and shut his eyes again. He desperately wanted to rest. He desperately wanted to stop feeling altogether, to shut off his emotions, to be somewhere peaceful and calm, to be out of pain. In the middle of his desperation, Harry fell asleep again.

Like so many times the previous school year, Harry found himself walking down a hallway. I’m dreaming he thought vaguely. It least it’s a different hallway. He was curious, there was something down at the end of the hall he needed to see. It was important.

He drifted past a nurse’s station, must be a hospital, he thought. He walked down the hall, that’s the room Harry thought, and looked into a hospital room in the middle of the corridor on the left. Harry was surprised to see himself lying in the hospital bed. Fred and George Weasley were also there playing chess with Ron. Mrs. Weasley was chatting with Mrs. Granger, and two other wizards were sitting in chairs near the window. He looked at himself and realized that he looked really awful. His hair was greasy and unwashed, he was very pale and even asleep, his body looked tense and tired.

Harry turned around to look back into the hallway, someone was there coming towards him. He saw to his horror that it was Voldemort was walking down the hallway.

Voldemort looked at Harry and said, “You can never escape me. I will find a way to kill you, boy.” Voldemort pulled out a muggle gun pointed it at Harry and shot him twice, once in the leg and once in the abdomen. The bullets hit the same spots as Harry wounds. “I can control anyone Harry Potter, even muggles. They are the easiest to control and the most disposable.” Harry turned again, he was compelled to look back into the hospital room. Instead of his room, to his great surprise, he was looking at jail cell. The Muggle gunman, Ned Rives, was hanging from the bars, dead, his belt around his neck.

Harry turned away and looked back at Voldemort, but Voldemort was gone, replaced by the orderly who had come into his room earlier. As the orderly looked at him, his eyes turned from brown to red right in front of Harry’s eyes. The orderly spoke with Voldemort’s voice, “Good bye Harry Potter. You proved to be my greatest challenge yet.” Voldemort looked over to the closet where the bedding was placed, “you’re impending doom Mr. Potter.”

Harry screamed and fought to bring himself out of the dream. But Voldemort laughed evilly, “You cannot break this connection boy. They all seem to think that you have power, but you are a weak fool, like your Mudblood mother. I would keep you as my own puppet, you would prove a useful tool. But your mere existence is irksome, and has lost me 14 years of my life. Do you know how it feels to die Harry Potter?”

Voldemort changed the dream. Harry was now in a place that was pitch black, all of a sudden there was a horrible flash of green light. The light moved toward him and hit him full in the chest. It felt like his very essence was being ripped out of him. Harry screamed. It was more painful than Crucio, more frightening than Imperio. Then it was gone.

Voldemort’s voice hissed in the darkness, “That, Harry Potter is what you put me through, every moment of every day for 14 years. I look forward to watching you die”

Still in the pitch black, Harry thought quickly. If Voldemort could force a feeling into Harry, maybe Harry could force a feeling into Voldemort, change the dream to his advantage. Harry concentrated all of his energy on thinking about Sirius going through the veil. He focused on the memory and pushed it at the Voldemort presence in his brain. All of sudden, the blackness was gone. Voldemort was back, they were in the hospital corridor again. The orderly who was standing next to Voldemort, slowly disappeared, until he was gone. Voldemort staggered back as if the memory had actually stung him.

Voldemort pushed the death feeling into Harry again. The blackness returned and Harry screamed. Voldemort released the feeling from Harry’s mind, and they were back in the hospital again. The orderly was back and his eyes turned once again from brown to red. Harry realized that he was holding a wand in his hand.

Harry thought quickly, Voldemort’s is controlling the orderly, but he lost control of him when he felt Sirius’s death. Harry thought about all of his thoughts earlier in the day, and brought them all back to the surface. His pain over Sirius, watching his best friends in pain, seeing his Uncle Vernon lying on the pavement in pain, and overwhelming though all of it was, Harry managed to push all the crushing weight of his life into those red eyes.

It was eiree, the dreamed changed over and over again, replaying some of the worst moments in Harry’s life. Harry was taking Voldemort on a one way trip through his pain. Voldemort staggered backward, the orderly disappeared again. Harry brought up more painful images, Cedric lying dead in the graveyard, the Hermione petrified in the hospital wing, Ron’s arms covered in brains, and he pushed them into Voldemort’s brain, Voldemort’s dream. Voldemort started screaming, and Harry found Voldemort’s control of his mind was gone.

Harry whipped open his eyes with a yelp and flayed around for his wand. Voldemort would have gained control of the orderly again. The orderly walked into the room and Harry yelled “Stop him!”

“What?” Fred said in surprise turning to Harry.

“The orderly,” Harry pointed furiously at him, “he’s got a wand.”

Fred and George’s years of beater experience kicked in and they were the first to attempt to stop the orderly. They grabbed him into sort of group tackle, trying to wrestle the wand out of his hands. With incredible strength, the orderly pushed them both out of the way and into walls on separate sides of the room.

The order members then stepped up and shot several spells at him, which hit, but had no effect. The orderly had put an effective shield in place. But Harry looked at the orderly’s eyes. They were dreamy. He was under the Imperious Curse. The wizards and the orderly began to duel.

“Ron,” Harry called. “Those blankets in the wardrobe that he just brought in, get rid of them!”

Ron darted across the room, dodging a few spells. He threw open the cabinet and rummaged through to find a Muggle bomb. “Harry! What the bloody hell is this?” Ron shouted over the dueling noise.

“It’s a bomb Ron. It’s going to explode!”

Ron ducked across the room again to one of the open windows. He gave an audible gasp. And Harry saw a spell fly in the window to Ron’s left, shattering the window in the blaze of glass. Ron was covered in glass, and he staggered sideways a bit. Ron recovered quickly and using the new hole he threw the bomb as hard as he could out the window. He dodged back just in time for another barrage of spells to come through the new hole in the wall.

The order guards had just finished with the orderly and were binding him up, and then the bomb went off. It shook the whole building. There was screaming and yelling from everywhere, and Harry was sure the building had shifted off its foundation.

Ron crawled over to Harry’s bed and said, “There are a group of Death Eaters outside. I pitched the bomb in the middle of them.” He looked triumphant. But it only lasted a second because another barrage of spells hit the side of the wall and broke out the rest of the room’s windows. The glass sprayed everywhere like water. Everyone was covered.

Mrs. Weasley and Dr. Granger hurried over to the bed where Harry and Ron were. “Fred, George,” she hissed, “get over here now.”

Fred crawled over and looked frantically around for George. George was unconscious against the wall, by the door. Fred cried out and started to crawl tried to get to his brother.

“No you don’t,” Mrs. Weasley hissed grabbing him. “I’ll get George. Fred, Ron, I need you to get Harry back to Grimmauld Place, and then call your brothers to you. They’ll help you defend him until the Order arrives.”

Ron looked at the half dead Harry in the bed, “How, Mum, he can’t even walk?”

“There is a fireplace in the main lobby of the hospital,” she answered quickly and pushed a sack into Fred’s hand. “It’s Floo Powder. Your Dad hooked it up, in case of an emergency. Go.”

Ron muttered something Harry couldn’t hear under his breath, and then Fred grabbed Harry’s arm and started to heave him upright. “Come on Ron,” Fred barked, “let’s go.” Ron looked startled, but grabbed Harry’s other arm. Between the two of them, the managed to hoist Harry out of bed.

The pain was horrible. Harry moaned and grunted, but he didn’t complain as he allowed them to half carry, half drag him out of the room. Fred gave one more forlorn look to George, but then his face hardened and he focused to the hallway ahead.

“Wand out Ron,” Fred barked to him, as he himself pulled out his wand and held it with his left hand. Ron pulled out his want and held it in his right. “Screw the Statute of Secrecy,” Fred continued. “If anyone gets in our way, stun them.”

The first victims to the Weasley brothers were the nurses who were running toward Harry’s room at the sound of the commotion. Ron didn’t hesitate. “Stupefy,” he called three times in quick succession taking down everyone standing in the hall in less than five seconds.

Fred looked over at him mildly impressed, “Remind me not to piss you off, little bro.”

“Just don’t ever call me a prat ever again,” Ron said with a wry smile, which Fred returned.

They dragged Harry to the elevator. The brothers then looked at each other blankly. “Hit the down arrow you morons,” Harry said through clenched teeth, Ron quickly did so. Harry put his good leg on the ground and shifted out of Fred grip. “LOOK OUT!” Harry called.

Two death eaters were running toward them, pulling their wands out. Ron, Harry and Fred all shot a series of spells toward them. The door opened behind them just as Fred was hit with Expelliarmus. Fred flew backward in the elevator, his wand flying through the air. Ron grabbed Harry and pulled them both safely inside the elevator, they hit the ground with a thud. Harry hit the number 1 button, and the door close button. Several more spells headed toward them hit the elevator door and bounded off.

“Fred!” Ron said urgently, kneeling down by his brother.

Fred sat up and looked angry, something Harry had never seen before. Fred cursed several times and then shouted, “They got my wand.”

“The Floo powder?” Ron asked

“No, it’s in my back pocket,” Fred assured him.

Ron looked relieved. But Fred continued to fume about his lost wand. Harry tossed him his wand. “Take it, Fred, I’m not going to be much help anyway.”

Fred caught it deftly and got up. He walked over to where Harry was lying on the floor and proceeded to help him sit up again. Ron came over and the Weasley brothers pulled Harry back to his feet. They all stood cautiously behind the elevator controls. Ron peaked out around and whispered, “All clear, let’s go.”

The three teens walked around the first level of the building looking for the fireplace. They were forced to stun at least fifteen muggles, and had to duck into an office while three Death Eaters passed. Exiting again, they walked back around another corner to see the elevator again.

This time it was Ron who cursed, “We’re going in circles.”

Fred joined in the cursing, “Where is that blasted fireplace? We can’t keep wandering around like this; we’re going to get caught.”

A thought dawned on Harry, “Fred, Ron, can either of you drive a real car?”

“What?” they both said in unison.

“A real car, can either you drive a real car? You know, one that doesn’t fly?”

Fred answered, “I think I can. I drove the Ford Anglia before it could fly.”

“All right, then, Fred, apparate outside and steal a car. We can drive to Mrs. Figg’s house and use her fireplace. Ron and I will meet you outside.”

“What? Are you crazy? I’m not going to just leave you two here like this, you’re sitting ducks,” Fred protested.

“Do you have a better idea?” Harry prompted.

“Yes, we stick together,” Fred said sternly. “And then steal a car and get out of here.”

The three of them slowly made their way out of a side door, which set off a nasty alarm.

“Silencio,” Ron shouted and the alarm shut off.

They were slowly making their way across the hospital garden to the parking lot beyond. There were shouts and yells not far away, but the area in front of them was totally deserted. Harry could plainly hear sirens, spells, and screams. The sounds seemed to be drawing closer to them.

Fred stopped, “All right, I’ve had it Harry. If we keep carrying you like this we’re never going to get there before we’re overrun by Death Eaters.” Fred stood Harry up on his good leg and then proceeded to pick him up in a fireman’s carry. “Go Ron,” Fred hissed under the weight. “Find a car and get it running.”

Ron shot ahead of his brother to the nearest car and magically opened it up. After a few more moments, he brought the engine to life, and then put the car and gear and drove across the grass toward Fred and Harry. Ron stopped, Fred opened the back door, unceremoniously dropped Harry in the back seat and then jumped in front with Ron.

Ron took off, speeding away from the hospital. His driving wasn’t too bad. “Where am I going, Harry?”

Harry felt woozy again. “Umm”, he slurred, he eyes started filling with stars again.

“Harry!” Ron shouted. “Where am I going? Harry!”

Fred looked behind them. “He’s bleeding again Ron, it looks bad.”

Ron hit the steering wheel with his hand and said to Fred helplessly. “I have no idea where we’re going. I don’t suppose you do?”

“I don’t even know where we are, much less where we need to go,” Fred said angrily. “Who is Mrs. Figg anyway?”

“Harry’s batty old neighbor, I think she’s a squib.”

Harry managed to speak up, “She lives on Magnolia Crescent. Go out to the main road, go south for four lights, and then turn right. Magnolia Crescent is down another ten or twelve blocks on the left. When you get there, look for the cats…”

“Look for cats?” Fred questioned indigently. “What kind of directions are those?”

“Harry,” Fred repeated, “I’m asking you, can you do better than that? It’s not like we have any clue where we are. Harry?”

Fred looked over the seat back at Harry, who hadn’t answered. Fred’s eyes widened in alarm, “Ron, he’s really bad.” Fred racked his brain, and then said, “Medicus.” The bleeding stopped, and then he followed with, “Envigorate”.

Harry went from the brink of passing out to feeling better than he had for days. Harry sat up. “Thanks. Ron look out!”

Ron swerved widely to avoid a hitting a parked car.

“Where did you learn that?” Harry asked Fred impressed. “I didn’t know that Hogwarts had any classes in magical healing.”

“Hogwarts does have some classes in magical healing, but I didn’t take them. Most of what I learned about magic healing was from practical experience. The Skiving Snack Boxes taught us more about magical healing remedies than any class ever could.”

Harry considered it, and realized Fred was right. Those snack boxes were very tricky magically, and very clever. Fred and George would have had to know a lot about magical healing to create them. “Turn left here, Ron,” Harry said.

They proceeded to Mrs. Figg’s house without incident. Ron was a fairly good driver and as Fred pointed out most of the Muggle police officers would be busy with the bomb that just went off at the hospital.

Mrs. Figg’s house was mostly dark, except one light in the back. Ron and Fred managed to get Harry out of the backseat. Harry was feeling better so they were having a much easier go at it. Harry rang the bell, and then realized how late it was. There was movement in the house and Mrs. Figg came to the door looking tired.

“Good Lord, Harry!” Mrs. Figg exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing here? Get in, get in, before anyone sees you.”

“Hello Mrs. Figg,” Harry said, “we need to use your fire. There was an attack at the hospital and we need to back to Grimmauld Place.”

“So you came here, did you?” Mrs. Figg looked exasperated. “I thought Dumbledore had the hospital put into the Floo network, in case something like this happened?”

“Er…” Harry began, “well, he did, but we couldn’t find the fireplace.”

“So you came here! Good lord boy, did it occur to you that my house can’t be connected into the Floo network because I’m a squib.”

“You aren’t connected into the Floo network?”

“No, I’m not. Squib’s aren’t allowed to use any form of magical transportation.”

Fred looked exasperated, “Do you have anyway to contact the Order?”

“No, not directly. I need help from someone else to do it.”

Ron piped up, “Will the Death Eaters to find us here? Can we hide out here until morning?”

“Yes, they will find you, and no you won’t be able to hide here,” Mrs. Figg answered sternly. “The Death Eaters always have an eye on Harry. They’ll figure out where you are within the hour.”

“So what are our options?” Ron asked.

Fred answered, “We could stay here, wait for the order, and fight the Death Eaters when they come.”

“No,” Ron answered, “that’s too risky. We only have two wands between the three of us and they’ll be at least ten of them. There is no way we could pull it off.”

“Go back to the hospital?” Fred suggested with a smirk.

“Sure Fred, let’s walk back into the swarm of Death Eaters, great idea.” Ron said sardonically.

“That’s where we are supposed to be,” Fred answered defensively, “at least there we would have help, and we wouldn’t be outnumbered.”

“It’s very risky,” Ron stated slowly, “we might not be able to find any help, before we’re overrun.”

“We could drive,” Harry suggested.

“What?” Ron and Fred asked together.

“We could drive into London. It’s not that far. We could take the car to an underground station, get on the train, and get back to Grimmauld Place that way.” Harry finished. “It would take some time, but we should be able to avoid Death Eaters. I mean the last place they would expect us to be is in Muggle London.”

Fred looked at Harry as though he were crazy, “You do realize that you can’t walk, you’re wearing a hospital gown, and we have no Muggle money.”

“What else do we have?” Harry shot back at him, “so far all you’ve come up with is to stay here and wait for the Death Eaters to find us, or walk into the center of the current Death Eater attack. I think running for it is a better option. I know that I could find Grimmauld Place once we got in the underground.”

Ms. Figg looked irate, “No, No, NO! You’re not running off to London, or going back to the hospital. You’re going back to your Aunt and Uncle’s house now.” She picked up a pillow and started to whack Ron with it. “Get back in that car and go back to Privet Drive. You’re safe there Harry. Then you,” she pointed at Fred, “can you Apparate?”

Fred nodded, miffed.

“Once you get these two settled back into to Privet Drive, find Dumbledore and tell him where Harry is located. Privet Drive is the only place that you can safely reach, none of this running off to London or running into the middle of battle nonsense. This isn’t a game, Harry! He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named will stop at nothing to kill you.” Mrs. Figg began to ushering them out the front door. “Get going, go straight home, Harry. You might have ten minutes to get there safely before they’ll figure out where you are. If they find you before you get to safety, they will kill you, Harry, and your friends. You head off to London, all three of you will be dead before you get to underground. Go, quickly!”

The teens got back into the car, properly chastised, and with lot of grumbling, headed straight for Harry’s house on Privet Drive.

They pulled quietly up to Number 4 Privet Drive. The house was completely dark. It was really eerie to Harry. The last time he had seen Number 4, it had been a literal war zone with bodies on the ground, flashing lights, screams, and he had been in a lot of pain.

“You alright there, Harry?” Ron asked as he and Fred pulled him out of the backseat.

“Yeah,” Harry said quietly, “it’s just…” Harry drifted off, not knowing how to explain. He shuddered, and touched his bandaged side.

Both Ron and Fred looked concerned. Fred said, “Come on Harry, we need to get you inside, before anyone else arrives.”

Harry nodded and threw his left arm over Fred, his right over Ron. They quickly made their way up the driveway to the front door. Harry tried the door, but it was locked.

“Don’t you have a way to get in?” Ron asked, puzzled.

Harry’s insides gave an uncomfortable turn. “Well, no, not actually. Fred, can I have my wand back?”

Fred handed it over to him without contest.

Harry whispered, “Alohomora,” and the door unlocked.

Fred and Ron looked somewhere between puzzled and outraged. “You mean you don’t have a way to get into your own house?” Ron asked.

“Sure, I do,” Harry said trying to make light of it, “magic.”

“You know what I mean,” Ron said looked aggrieved. “Those Muggles won’t give you a way into your own house. That’s just plain rude.”

Harry was suddenly irritated, “What do you want me to say, Ron?” Harry’s emotions burst through the surface. “My family, the only living relatives I have can’t stand me. They don’t love me, they don’t care about me, and as far as they’re concerned I’m worthless!” Harry voice was rising as they proceeded through the door. “I slept in the cupboard under the stairs for ten years, in a four bedroom house. Two of my grammar school teachers reported them for neglect, but I had no where else to go. They purposely kept me as miserable as possible.”

Harry’s rant was interrupted by barking. Ripper, Aunt Marge’s bulldog, ran down the stairs and started to bark loudly at Harry and the Weasleys. Ripper was followed immediately by Aunt Marge herself.

“You!” Aunt Marge accused. “How dare you set foot in this house again? GET OUT! GET OUT, NOW!”

Ron and Fred looked shocked at her reaction. Harry, on the other hand, had been preparing himself for it as soon as they settled on coming back.

“In case you have forgotten, Aunt Marge, I live here,” Harry replied as calmly as possible given his current mood. “I just want to go up to my room.”

“You will do no such thing. You will turn around and get out of this house, now. It was good of my brother to take in the first place, and all you have done is brought trouble down for his whole family. I suppose the gunman who shot my brother was some colleague of yours, from St. Brutus’s?”

Aunt Marge had hit close to the truth, even if her facts were twisted. Harry knew it, but couldn’t keep from snapping at her. “For your information,” Harry started, “the person who shot Uncle Vernon and me was an old co-worker of his. As much as you would like to blame me for all the troubles suffered by this entire family, sometimes I’m just as innocent as your beloved Dudley.”

Aunt Marge retorted back, “That does not change the fact that you cannot enter this house. You will not stay here. I’m in charge, and I will not take charge of you. You will leave now, or I will summon the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”

“No you won’t,” said a new voice from behind her, shielded from view by her massive frame. Dudley’s voice wafted down into the foyer. “He lives here for crying out loud. What are you going to say to the police, that he can’t live here because you aren’t his guardian? He still lives here, all of his stuff is in his bedroom.”

“Besides,” Fred put in, “all the police are rather busy with the explosion at the hospital.”

Marge and Dudley both reeled at the new information. Marge changed her tone very quickly, “My God, where was it? Are Vernon and Petunia okay?” She rounded on Fred to whom she hadn’t looked at before.

Ron answered the question, “It was outside the hospital, so I doubt either of them was hurt. I don’t know for sure though.”

Harry put in, “I’m pretty sure the building was damaged, so they’ll both probably have to be moved.”

Aunt Marge looked back to Harry, “What are you doing here anyway? You obviously couldn’t have been discharged yet.”

Harry all of a sudden felt very tired, he leaned more heavily on Fred and Ron. “Let’s just say, I was convinced to leave by the same folks who made me an orphan in the first place.”

Aunt Marge looked confused, “Your parents were killed in a car accident. Your father was driving drunk. It was his fault that he died and he should have taken you with them. Stop your lying, boy.”

Dudley emerged from behind his Aunt and looked down at Harry from the top of the stairs. He replied anxiously, “My Mum, is she safe? Are they going to go after her?”

Harry’s mouth dropped, Dudley was right, Aunt Petunia was a target for the Death Eaters. Harry sighed, “You’re right, Dudley, she is a target. I don’t know what kind of protection she has. Fred,” Harry turned to him, “go, please. Get back to the hospital and make sure there is some kind of protection for my aunt and uncle.” Harry took his arm off of Fred and pulled out his wand again. He handed it off to Fred. “Take it and go.”

“Harry, Mum told me specifically to make sure I got you safely to Grimmauld Place. And I’m not about to leave you and Ron here without any kind of protection.”

“Listen Fred, I’m safe here. I always have been. My Mum died trying to protect me from Voldemort. She left a protection in me that is bound to blood. I’m safe here because this is the house where my blood lives. As long as I’m here, Voldemort and his supporters cannot touch me.”

Fred looked confused and not convinced, “I’ve never heard of anything like this before. And trust me, I’ve heard a lot.”

“Its old magic,” Harry said. “I doubt that anyone studies it anymore. Trust me, I’m safe here. Well, at least from Death Eaters, not from gunman.” Harry winced as the pain started again in his side.

“What are you talking about?” Aunt Marge fumed looking from Ron, to Harry, to Fred all in turn.

They glanced at her and then Fred continued, “What about Ron? Is he safe? I’m not about to leave here if Ron is danger.”

“I don’t know,” Harry admitted tiredly, “I don’t know if the protection would extend to Ron or not.”

“Then I’m not going anywhere, I’m not leaving my little brother in danger,” Fred responded resolutely.

“For crying out loud, Fred,” Ron said exasperatedly. “I’ve been in more danger hanging around Harry then you have ever been. I’ll be fine. I’ll call for Bill and Charlie as soon as you leave.”

“We’ll call for them now, and then I’ll go. I’m not leaving you two alone like this,” Fred mumbled, “Avoco Frater,” and seemed to go into a trance.

Harry moved to sit down on the steps. He was getting really tired. He finally got a good look at Dudley. Dudley didn’t look good. He looked peaky, which was difficult for someone so massive to do. Dudley was watching Fred, looking concerned. Harry spoke to him softly through his own growing pain, “I’m sure that they are guarding her. They wouldn’t leave her unprotected.”

Dudley nodded, and then looked up in surprise, Bill and Charlie Weasley had just Apparated in the room. The older brothers quickly surveyed the scene, and clearly relieved, Bill grabbed Fred by the arm and Charlie pulled Ron into a one armed hug.

“Thank God, you all are safe,” Charlie sighed, the relief evident.

“Mum was having kittens I’ll have you know,” Bill chastised and then took another quick look around. “Umm, hello,” he said to Aunt Marge and then “Oblivate.”

Aunt Marge’s face fell into a very calm state, like she was asleep on her feet. Bill looked between Ron and Fred standing and Harry sitting on the steps and said, “You guys owe us a very big explanation. Where are we anyway?”

“My house,” Harry said through clenched teeth as the pain was growing. “This is where I live.” He then turned quickly to Fred and said, “Get going please. Ron and I will explain to Bill and Charlie.”

“All right, I’ll be back as soon as I can with news. Remember you have to get rid of the stolen car,” Fred said to Ron and then he Disapparated.

Charlie looked at Ron, “You stole a car?”

“Well, yeah, I guess. It was all that we could figure to do at the time,” Ron mumbled in a barely audible voice.

All of sudden everyone was asking questions at once, Dudley’s angry voice came down the stairs asking about his aunt, while Bill was demanding to know why they left the hospital, and Charlie was asking about the stolen car.

Ron and Harry looked at each other helplessly. Ron finally spoke up, “We need to get rid of that car first thing, agreed?”

Harry nodded, “Yeah, before anyone finds it in our driveway.”

Ron looked at his brothers, “Do either you want to come with me, I have to get rid of a car.”

Bill and Charlie looked at each other. Charlie spoke up first, “I’ll go with the carjacker; you need to clean up a memory.”

Bill smiled, “Sounds good. Make sure that the little thief doesn’t lead you any further astray.”

Ron and Charlie left out the front door. Bill turned his attention to Aunt Marge. He was concentrating on her looking directly into her eyes. Harry had a feeling that Bill was a skilled Legilimens. Dudley angrily came down the stairs, yelling and cursing at Bill.

“Stop it,” he yelled, “don’t hurt her. If you hurt her, I’ll beat you into pulp, you red headed freak.”

“Calm down, Dudley,” Harry said soothingly, “Bill is just changing her memory so she won’t remember anything about the magical world. You know, people popping in and out, spells and such. He’s not going to hurt her, I promise you.”

Dudley seemed to buy what Harry said, he didn’t try to hurt Bill, but he watched him closely, his fists clenched tightly. Bill finished his memory modifying, and then started to talk to Aunt Marge in low tones. She looked up, peaceful look gone. Bill said to her, “Ms. Dursley, I think you are tired. Why don’t you head back up to bed?”

Aunt Marge shook her head a little, as if to clear it, and then said, “Yes, you are right. I could use some sleep. Good Night, Dudley.” She walked past all of them, up the stairs and into the spare room.

It left Dudley, Harry, and Bill in the foyer of the house. They all looked at each in uncomfortable silence. Harry felt like he should do something to alleviate the awkwardness, but he was so tired. Harry turned to lean against the wall. He shut his eyes.

“Harry,” Bill asked quietly, “are you okay? You look like death warmed over.”

Harry opened his eyes and looked between the two of them. He realized he didn’t much care what they thought, as long as he could just rest, right here. He closed his eyes again and said, “I’m all right, just tired.”

“Let’s get you up into your room. You’ll be more comfortable there,” Bill said, still quietly. Bill turned to Dudley, “Would you give me a hand?”

Dudley just nodded, and they hoisted Harry up and drug him up the stairs. They got him into his bedroom and got him situated on his bed. They heard voices from downstairs, Ron and Charlie had gotten back. Apparently, it hadn’t taken to long to get rid of the car. Bill checked once more on Harry and then went down to meet his brothers. It left Harry and Dudley alone in Harry’s room.

Dudley looked at Harry on the bed and asked quietly, “Is my Mum going to be okay?”

Harry got himself comfortable and looked over at Dudley. His face was pale and drawn. He hadn’t showered, and looked thoroughly depressed. He was obviously at the end of his rope.

Harry said quietly, “I don’t know, Dudley. I am pretty sure that she is being guarded, so she’s probably fine. Fred will be back shortly. He’ll let us know.”

“Dad’s really bad,” Dudley said in monotone, closing his eyes, “I don’t know if he’s going to make it.”

Harry just looked at him. He didn’t know what to say.

Dudley continued, “He looks so terrible. He’s hooked up to a thousand machines; he’s stopped breathing five times. One of the bullets pierced a lung. The machines go off and the nurses and doctors come running and then I’d swear that it’s the end. But then they stabilize him and we wait until the next time the machines go off.”

Harry knew his Uncle was bad, but he hadn’t realized how bad. Harry still didn’t know what to say. He just looked at Dudley helplessly.

“Mum is almost worse. She’s okay, but she’s just not there. I mean her body is there and she sits up and looks at you, but she doesn’t recognize me,” Dudley choked and tears started flowing down his checks. “I still can’t believe this happened,” Dudley sobbed, “it’s like a nightmare that you can’t wake up from.”

Harry felt compelled to say something, “I’m sorry Dud.” It was all he could come up with. His words felt so inadequate for the situation.

Dudley quietly sobbed in by the door, and Harry stared at him helplessly. Harry finally came up with something to say, “Hey, er… Thanks for pulling me out of the way and getting me to the ambulance. You probably saved my life.”

Dudley wiped the tears away, “We’re even then. You saved me, I saved you.”

“I saved you?” Harry looked at him blankly.

“Last year, the Dementers, they almost killed me. You got them to back off. You saved my life.”

“I guess,” Harry commented tiredly. “I never thought about it that way.”

“I have,” Dudley answered back. “I’ve had a lot of time to think about it. Those creatures when they got close to me last summer, I saw things in my head.”

Harry nodded, Dementors make you recall your worse memory. More out of curiosity then anything Harry asked, “What did you see?”

“Do you remember Mr. Davis, from 5th grade?”

Harry nodded.

“He humiliated me in front of the whole class, do you remember?”

“Er,” Harry mumbled, “no, not really.”

“He called me fat and stupid in front of the whole class. He told me I was worthless and didn’t have enough talent to go anywhere in life. He told everyone that if they wanted to be someone in life, to look at me and do the opposite. Everyone laughed at me.”

Harry remembered now. Mr. Davis had disliked Dudley and often singled him out. If Harry remembered right, that wasn’t the only time that Mr. Davis had insulted Dudley in front of everyone.

“Trouble is, he’s right,” Dudley continued his voice wavering, “I am stupid. There is no way that I’ll ever be able to get into a university like Dad wants. I’m not smart enough.”

Harry answered quickly, “You’re smart enough to get in to a university.”

“No, I’m not. I never have been. You of anyone should know that. In grammar school, you always received better marks than me, everyone did.”

Harry knew that he had usually received better marks in school than Dudley, but he thought it was more because Dudley didn’t try and Harry didn’t have anything else to do.

Dudley started to sob some more, “My parents, they don’t know me.” His crying increased and then he managed to say, “They have all these expectations of me. They want me to get into a good university; and carry on the family name and pride. They think I’m popular, and athletic. They don’t ever seem to see me, just what they want me to be. It’s a load of crap.”

Harry was bewildered. Dudley was right; his parents had never really known who he was. They were actually exceeding stupid on the subject. Harry figured that Dudley liked it because it allowed him get away with murder. Apparently that wasn’t the case.

Dudley continued, “And then everything with you. It’s not like it was your fault your parents were killed. It’s not like you wanted to be here anymore than they wanted you to be. But they treated you like such crap. They could have at least made some effort, gotten you some clothes that fit.” Dudley broke off again and his crying increased even more, “And now Dad is near death and Mum is crazy, and the last time I talked to them, we had a fight. They’ll never know; they’ll never know me,” Dudley began to wail.

Harry once again felt compelled to say something, “You love them, and they know it. They love you too.” Harry hoped that he sounded comforting.

Dudley looked over at Harry hopefully, like a drowning man, so Harry tried to continue, but he didn’t have much to say. Finally Harry came up with, “They’ll both probably pull out of it. Your Mum especially, she may have been hit by a couple of spells in that attack. If you want, I can request a healing wizard look at her, your Dad too if you want. They maybe able to do something the other doctors can’t.”

“No, they would never agree with that. I think my Dad would rather die then have you perform magic on him. I don’t get you, Harry,” Dudley shook his head at him; flickers of the bully arose from his teary eyes. “They have treated you like crap your whole life and instead of running away, you still come back here every year. You have an entire other life with people like you, and you still come back here. Why?”

Harry closed his eyes; this was not something he wanted to discuss with his cousin. “It’s complicated,” he finally conceded.

“Life complicated,” Dudley sighed, “You saved my life last year and…” Dudley dropped off the sentence.

“And what?” Harry prompted glad for a change in topic.

“I realized later that if the situation had been reversed, had it been you in danger, and I was the only one who could save you, I don’t know if I would have done it. I would have let you die.” Dudley started to cry again, “I’m a horrible person. You’re like my brother, and I would have let you die. What kind of person would do that?”

Harry winced again as the pain shot through his leg. He once again felt compelled to say something, “I don’t know, Dudley. It’s not like your parents fostered any love between us. I couldn’t let you die if there was anything I could do about it. But twenty seconds before the Dementers showed up, I was about ready to turn you into a gigantic slug. You really don’t know what you’d do in that situation before you’re in one.”

Dudley eventually stopped crying and wiped his tears away. “I suppose you’re right. I just wish that Mum and Dad knew me. They are so busy trying to make people think they are important that they miss what is important.”

Harry just stared at him. He had of course known that for years. His uncle and aunt’s self important attitude had never concerned him all that much. They weren’t his parents. His parents had died nobly, trying to protect him and take down the most evil wizard in a century. Harry didn’t feel close to his aunt and uncle, he just felt lucky to have escaped from them and to go to Hogwarts. Harry finally said, “Dudley, they don’t know you, they don’t know me. Consider yourself lucky, they at least care about you. They never have about me.”

“If you think Mum and Dad don’t care about you, why do you come back? Those red headed people downstairs, why don’t you go and live with them?” Dudley asked angrily.

“You are the only family I have. As much as everyone would prefer that I go live with the Weasleys, they still aren’t my family. You are.” Harry dropped his head down onto the pillow and mumbled, “Your Mum is the only Mum I’ve ever known. Even if she doesn’t love me.”

Dudley snapped back at Harry, “She loves you, Harry. She always has. I can’t believe you don’t think that she does.”

Harry glanced over at him, disbelief in his eyes, “Dudley, she doesn’t love me and we both know that. If she cared about me even a little bit, she would have treated me a whole lot better than she has.”

“No, she does love you. She told me so once.”

Harry was shocked, “She told you that she loved me.”

“Yes, actually, when we were still in grammar school. I was complaining about something and I said to her that I wanted you to go live at an orphanage like Aunt Marge said you should. She said, no, that you needed to live here with us. I pushed her harder about it and she still no, until she finally said, ‘Dudley, I love you more than anything; I would die to protect you. But, every time he looks at me with those eyes, he reminds me of your Aunt Lily, and your grandmother. He needs to stay here because I loved my sister, and I love him too.’”

Harry was shocked, both at the fact that Dudley remembered such a random conversion with such detail and the fact he remembered one that pertained to him. Harry had to ask, “How do you remember that? It had to be years ago.”

Dudley replied, “That was the only time I remember Mum saying she loved me too.”

Harry considered that, and he had never heard either his aunt or uncle say that they loved him, but neither had they said that they loved Dudley either.

Dudley looked uncomfortable, “I know that they love me, but it’s always good to hear, you know.”

“No, I don’t know,” Harry replied his insides squirming and getting more tired by the minute, “I’ve never known or felt like they loved me, or cared for me at all. I always thought that I was some major inconvenience that they would have rather not had.”

“I don’t suppose they did want you when you arrived on their doorstep, but they do love you now, at least Mum does. If they really hated you, they would have sent you away years ago, or made you stay at school all summer too.”

Harry closed his eyes, “Whatever, Dudley.” He couldn’t really believe Dudley. He couldn’t believe that his aunt actually cared about him. There was too much evidence to the contrary. Harry decided to try and end the conversation, “I don’t think I can talk anymore.” Harry winced again as the pain hit. It seemed to come in waves and then go again.

“Are you okay?” Dudley asked in actual concern.

Harry looked at him, “Yeah, I guess.”

“Shouldn’t you be in the hospital?” Dudley questioned. “If not in the hospital here, some hospital for people like you?”

“I suppose,” Harry conceded, “but they were there, trying to kill me again. I couldn’t stay there. This was the only place I could get.”

“Why? Why do they keep trying to kill you? What did you do?” Dudley asked him angrily.

“I didn’t do anything. I was born,” Harry replied bitterly.

“What?” Dudley asked. “That doesn’t make any sense.”

“No, it doesn’t,” Harry admitted. “But it’s the truth. I was born and Voldemort, you know, the guy who killed my parents, decided that I was a threat. I was what, fifteen months old, and he came to kill me. There was this stupid prophesy made before I was born that said that some kid would be able to bring him down. He decided that it was me, murdered my parents, and then tried to kill me. But it didn’t work, so I lived and my parents died. That’s why I had to come here. Your Mum is my only blood relative. My Mum died trying to protect me. The only place I’m safe from him is here.”

Somehow unloading the contents of the prophesy to Dudley was easier than telling someone who would actually understand.

“So he actually tried to kill you?” Dudley was incredulous, “Why would anyone try to kill a baby?”

“He just wants power, the prophesy made me a threat to his power, so he tried to kill me. And four or five times since then as well. I’ve lost count the number of times he’s tried to kill me in some way or another.”

“What do you mean he’s tried to kill you four or five times?”

Harry sighed, it was a very long story and he didn’t want to go into it. “Let’s just say that around the end of the summer term every year Voldemort tries to kill me in someway or another. Just about the time one of our teachers is sacked, killed, or incapacitated.”

“Every year?” Dudley asked.

“Yeah, mostly. I guess not my third year, but all the rest.”

“You’re sure that you didn’t do anything?”

Harry’s anger flashed, “Yes, I’m sure. I was one year old. What could I have done?”

“It still doesn’t make sense.”

“No, it doesn’t. It never has made sense. It just keeps happening and I stay alive more by luck than anything. And he keeps coming and coming. It never ends.” Harry almost started crying again, but composed himself quickly.

“Did you parents do anything? Would your Dad have done something?” Dudley probed.

That last question made Harry stop and think. From what he knew about his Dad, he would be the type to have done something. Harry remembered something Sirius had said, ‘the risk would have been what had made it fun for James.’

Sirius. Harry heard his voice in his head and then felt the emptiness again. Sirius was gone. He would never be able to hear his voice again. Harry remembered where he was and quickly suppressed his grief.

“I don’t know, maybe, I don’t know very much about him.”

All of sudden, Ron cleared his throat announcing that he there. Neither Harry nor Dudley had noticed him come in. “Fred’s back,” Ron turned to Dudley and said, “your parents are both okay, both under guard. Fred couldn’t get anymore information then that.”

Dudley nodded to Ron to show he understood and then looked back at Harry, “Well, good night Harry.” Their only real conversation in fifteen years was over.

Harry nodded, “Good night, Dudley.”

Dudley left Harry’s room leaving Ron and Harry alone.

Harry looked at Ron and saw him looking concerned. “What is it Ron?” Harry asked closing his eyes again.

“I heard part of your conversation with your cousin,” Ron said carefully.

“Yeah, so?” Harry questioned.

“You know what contents of the prophesy. How do you know? You told us it was smashed.”

Harry couldn’t take it. It was one thing talking about the prophesy with Dudley, who didn’t understand anything about it. It was a whole another thing discussing it with Ron. He wanted to tell Ron, he wanted to tell Hermione, but not now, not like this.

After a significant silence, Harry finally spoke, “Dumbledore told me about it when you were all still in the hospital wing…” he dropped off trying to decide what to say. “I’ll tell you Ron, I will, but please, can I just get some sleep? I promise when things settle down, I’ll explain it all to you. It’s a long story, and I don’t want to go into tonight.”

Ron looked a bit hurt, but said, “Sure mate. You look pretty tired. Bill, Charlie and I are going to stay here with you tonight at the request of Dumbledore. Someone will be along later tonight to check on your injuries.”

“Wizard or Muggle?” Harry asked.

“Don’t know,” Ron admitted, “I figured Wizard, but I could be wrong. We decided to hole up here in your room, if you don’t mind. We can hide out in here and avoid any more rows with your aunt.”

“She’s not my aunt,” Harry mumbled. “But thanks for the thought.”

“Get some sleep, Harry. We’ll be around if you need anything.”

Harry was already mostly asleep, but he managed to mumble, “Thanks,” before falling into a deep blackness.

Harry slept until someone started shaking him. “What?” Harry said startled out of sleep, “what’s the matter?” He opened his eyes to see Albus Dumbledore standing over him.

It was still very dark and Dumbledore put his finger to his lips in a shushing way, “Please keep your voice down, Harry. There are many things we need to discuss very quickly.”

Harry tried to sit up, but the pain that shot through his side was so bad that he yelped and his vision swam. Harry fell back to the bed again, his side still throbbing. Dumbledore looked over to someone else standing nearby, “Severus, please bring over the potions.”

Professor Snape walked over to the bed and handed Dumbledore a variety of small bottles. Snape started explaining them to Dumbledore, “The red one in the small round bottle is a blood restoring potion. The tall clear bottle is one dose of Skelgrow. The blue and green potions are general restoratives. The other bottle is the Muggle’s pain relieving medicine which Potter has been taking. I’ve researched this pill, it is very potent form of a medicine from the poppy plant, which we also use for pain relieving potions. The large grey bottle is for dreamless sleep.”

“None of these will react with the medicines the Muggles have given him?” Dumbledore asked.

“The particular drugs we were worried about were the ones they used to induce sleep before surgery. Those particular potions induce a near death state. Those are cleared from his body now. The other drugs they have given him are for pain and to prevent an infection. None of the potions will react dangerously with the Muggle potions, although they’re not going to be as quite as effective,” Snape explained.

“Thank you Severus,” Dumbledore replied. “As soon as Remus Lupin arrives, you can return to your other duties.”

Snape nodded and left the room. Dumbledore turned back to Harry, and started handing him bottles. “Drink up these three first, Harry,” Dumbledore said handing him the red, green, and blue bottles.

Harry drank them one at a time, and although he was still in pain, he began to feel stronger.

Dumbledore continued, “You are in a great deal of danger. More than even I realized at first. We were aware that Voldemort had additional plans to try and destroy you. What didn’t know was that he had several in the works, and has decided to implement them now; some of which show particular cunning. He was been in league with Muggles as well as Wizards.”

“You mean he has Muggles under the Imperious Curse?” Harry asked. “Like the gunman?”

“No, I mean that he is working with Muggles, using them with their own volition, at least at first. I don’t think the gunman was under the Imperious Curse. I think Voldemort used a more insidious means of controlling him. From what we could gather about Ned Rivers, he did have a passionate desire to harm your Uncle. Voldemort removed his inhabitations. Rivers wanted to hurt your family, but he never would have done so on his own. I think Voldemort enabled him to do it. This is actually more dangerous than the Imperious Curse. People under the Imperious Curse can barely function, beyond their orders. People acting on their own free will, especially if their inhibitions have been removed, can function quite well, and they are capable of horrible acts.”

“How do you know that?” Harry asked confused. This thought of Dumbledore’s didn’t seem to fit his dream.

“I spoke with Rivers today at the prison. I’m enough of a Legilimens to know that he wasn’t under the Imperious Curse. He was quite rational and passive about everything in his life, including his divorce. But when I brought up your uncle, he became very aggressive and hostile. He turned into another person. I believe that Voldemort used a potion to release his anger and use it against your family. I have to admit, this is a new step. Voldemort has never willingly brought Muggles into his leagues. Now, it seems that he will go to any lengths.”

“Ned Rivers is dead, Professor,” Harry stated flatly, “Voldemort came into my dreams again tonight,” Harry proceeded to explain the dream in great detail. “If I hadn’t been able to wake up, we all would have died.”

Dumbledore looked at him solemnly, “I knew that Ned Rivers was dead, that was probably the Imperious Curse. I didn’t foresee him using Muggles to get to you. This man was a victim. I should have realized this afternoon that Voldemort would try and dispose of him.”

Dumbledore continued, “Back to present problem, you are no longer safe here at Privet Drive. Voldemort cannot touch you, but Muggles in league with Voldemort can walk right in your front door.”

“So does that mean we’re leaving?” Harry asked confused.

“Yes and no,” Dumbledore answered. “We need to move you, yes, but we don’t have a place for you to go.”

“What about Grimmauld Place?” Harry queried. “Why can’t I go back there? That’s where Mrs. Weasley was sending us.”

Dumbledore sighed, “Without Sirius, Grimmauld Place is not secure. Kreacher no longer has a master to obey, which gives him free reign to provide as much information as he wants to his next nearest kin.”

“Meaning the Kreacher is handing Order information directly into the hands of Death Eaters?”

“Essentially, yes. There are pieces of information which he can’t give. He’s not secret keeper for the Order so at least he cannot relieve our location. Anything else is suspect. You are safe at Grimmauld Place insomuch as Voldemort cannot find the location. But everything you do and say there will potentially be discovered. House elves are very good at not being seen, and have a certain magic of their own. The Order has stopped meeting there.”

“So I can’t go to Grimmauld Place?” Harry questioned.

“You can’t go to Grimmauld Place unless it’s a desperate situation. Molly Weasley knew this and sent you there because it was a desperate situation.”

Harry remembered George laying on the floor unconscious, and quickly asked, “Is George all right?”

Dumbledore sighed again, and replied, “Yes, he will be. He’s at St. Mungo’s right now. He’ll probably be released tomorrow. He suffered a bad blow to the head, but he’ll make a full recovery.”

“So if I can’t stay here, I can’t go to Grimmauld Place, I’m assuming the Burrow is out, where am I going to go?”

“I have Remus Lupin working on that right now. Due to the circumstances surrounding the death of your parents, I appointed myself as the executer of their will. I believe that you own some property. Your grandparents were fairly wealthy, and I think they owned a summer cottage somewhere. Professor Lupin is trying to figure out where that is, and once we have it in hand, we’ll set you, the Grangers, and the Weasley’s up there for the summer.”

“Why everyone, I can’t imagine Hermione’s parents want to live in a magic household for the entire summer?”

“They are in danger. Your friendship with Hermione and Voldemort’s new contacts within the Muggle world put them in danger. Voldemort will use any means to destroy you, Harry, including your friends, and their families.”

Harry felt a wave of guilt wash over him. “This is all my fault,” he whispered. “Everyone who has been a part of my life is now in danger, because of me.”

“Harry, this isn’t your fault and deep inside, you know that. Voldemort is to blame. You were dragged in unwittingly by forces beyond your control before you were even born,” Dumbledore stated firmly. “You cannot allow yourself to feel self pity about the course of your life. You were spared from death when you were a baby, and you continue to walk a path with death surrounding you. This is your path. You were selected for it. Not by me, not by your parents, but unwittingly by the person who you have the power to destroy. And those people who are in danger right now because of your connection with Voldemort are here because they love and care about you.”

“But I don’t understand what I’m supposed to do. How am I going to,” Harry dropped off, he couldn’t bring himself to say kill, “you know, stop Voldemort.”

“I don’t know, Harry. What I do know, is that you are strong where Voldemort is weak, and that will come in play. When the time comes, and it has several times already, you have known what to do instinctively, and when that time comes you will know. In the meantime, those us who have sworn to protect you, must do so. Hopefully better than we have this week,” Dumbledore finished and handed Harry some pills to take for the pain.

Harry took the pills without a word. He fell into a sort of numbness. The guilt didn’t go away, he just stopped feeling altogether.

Harry brought the topic back around to where he was going to stay for the summer. “Where am I going? I’m assuming that we are leaving right?”

“Actually, no, you’re not leaving yet. I wanted to warn you, but I think you need to stay here for a couple more days at the very least. We don’t have any secure places to move you too. Here you are in danger from Muggles, but I think we can protect you from them. There is no where we can move you to that is safe from Wizards.”

“What about Hogwarts?”

“The staff is gone for the summer holidays as well. Without the protection of the staff, I don’t think you’d be safe there from Wizards. Any Wizard can easily enter the Hogwarts grounds from Hogsmead, especially when there is no one there to keep watch. Hogwarts is safe from Muggles not Wizards, your home here is safe from Wizards not Muggles. At this point, I’m betting that Wizards are the greater threat.”

Both Harry’s side and his leg were quite painful, even though the potions seemed to be helping his strength. Harry was so tired, so miserable that he couldn’t help but say, “So far it’s been Muggles that have done the most damage.”

Dumbledore looked at him with concern, and sighed, “I’m sorry, Harry. I’m sorrier than you will ever know. There are still several things we need to discuss, but I think we should wait on them until morning at least. The elder Weasley brothers have agreed to guard you until tomorrow morning. We’ll work on the other issues then.” He handed Harry the bottle of dreamless sleep potion. “Take a few sips, Harry. I’ll be back soon.”

Harry took the bottle and was asleep before he could hand it back to Professor Dumbledore.



Harry woke again to someone shaking him, but this time it was Ron and he was being a lot more forceful about it.

“Come on, Harry. Wake up!” Ron demanded.

“What?” Harry said groggily, looking at him through hazy eyelids, “what’s the matter?”

“There are people, lots of people trying to break into your house,” Ron stated desperately. “They have knives, chains, and guns. Bill and Charlie are down there now trying to stop them, but we need to be ready.”

Harry was barely awake, but he allowed Ron to pull him up into a sitting position. He actually felt fairly good, considering. Ron walked across the room and tossed him his wand.

“I think your aunt has called the police,” Ron continued.

“What time is it anyway?” Harry asked, becoming more alert.

“About 5:30 I would guess,” Ron said, looking out the window. He looked up as Bill and Charlie Weasley walked in the room.

“So, what’s up?” Ron asked looking between the two of them.

“No idea,” Charlie admitted. “We hid out of sight while Harry’s aunt made a phone call to the police. I don’t think she knows we’re here. The people outside looked like teenagers. I have no idea why they are here, or what they intend to do. They are just milling around.”

They heard a soft thump downstairs. Bill and Charlie both looked concerned. Bill said, “I’ll check that out, you stay here, Charlie. I’ll holler if I need anything.”

Charlie nodded and Bill quietly left the room.

The house was entirely, eerily, quiet. A minute passed. Then two minutes passed, then five minutes, in complete silence. Charlie was really worried, he started to pace up and down Harry’s room, pausing to look out the window. They heard another soft thump.

Charlie looked at the door like a cooped up dragon. It was obvious that he wanted to go and check on Bill, but he didn’t want to leave Harry and Ron alone. He went back to the window and stared out at the group of kids milling in the street. The police had arrived and were trying to disperse them. Ron and Charlie were both watching at the window with interest.

All of sudden, Harry’s door banged open. But there was no one there. Charlie quickly crossed the room to the door and looked out. Not seeing anything he stepped cautiously out into the hallway. A man dressed in black slipped from the shadows and slammed the door into the back of Charlie, sending him flying across the hallway. Charlie hit the hallway wall with a sickening crack and then fell to the ground with a thud.

The man was a small Asian man, dressed in classic ninja clothing. If Harry hadn’t seen it for himself, he would have thought it impossible. This was the kind of thing you saw in really bad Muggle movies, not in his bedroom.

The man sized up Harry and Ron, Harry sitting on his bed, still in the hospital gown, still half asleep, and Ron over by the window. The man seemed to be hesitating, waiting for Ron or Harry to make a move before proceeding.

Ron was quicker than Harry. He shot a stunning spell toward the smaller man. The man was very quick. He dodged the spell and flipped and landed right next to Ron. The ninja did a low spin kick, knocking Ron’s legs out from underneath him. Ron fell backwards into the window, his head connecting painfully against the window sill with a large bang. The ninja followed that move with a sharp jab downward right on Ron’s chest.

Harry shot off a stunning spell as well, but just as Harry thought it would hit, the man leaped out of the way and the spell hit Ron instead. Harry cursed under his breath. He couldn’t even stand up and face the attacker like a man. Harry started shooting off as many spells as he could think of, one after another desperately trying to hit him.

The man was truly dexterous. He easily managed to dodge all of Harry’s spells, finally coming to a rest with in reach of him. The man grabbed a dagger from the side of his leg and moved to strike. Harry, even more desperately tried to stun, but it was no good. The ninja grabbed Harry’s hair, and was attempting to slit his neck.

Harry fought back with all the strength he had. He flailed against the small man, desperately trying to survive, and then he felt the sting of the knife hitting his skin on his shoulder. All of sudden Harry’s body coursed with anger, and with it an almost electrical surge of energy racked his body.

The ninja screamed and left go of Harry immediately. The man held his hand back like he had been burned, and sure enough Harry saw the skin on his hand turning red and puffy. Harry was completely outraged. He shot a stunner off at the ninja which connected full in the chest. The ninja fell across the room and landed with a thud on the floor.

Harry tried to stand up, but his bad leg wouldn’t hold his weight. Harry sat back down, and worked his way onto the floor. He dragged himself on the floor over to where Ron was lying unconscious. Ron was still breathing, which was always a good sign.

“Is he okay?” Harry heard Charlie’s voice coming across the room.

Harry turned to look at Charlie. Charlie’s nose was obviously broken and bleeding freely. He was hurrying toward them.

“He’s still breathing,” Harry said, “he took a nasty blow and fell backwards into the window.”

Charile bent over Ron and checked him over. “I think he’ll be okay for the moment. I’m going to tie up the attacker, and then go look for Bill. You stay here with Ron and guard over them, all right?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed.

Charlie quickly walked over and tied up the attacker with ropes that came out of his wand. With one backward glance at Harry and Ron, he left the room only to return three seconds later, helping Bill into the room.

Bill was sporting a black eye, huge goose egg on the left side of his forehead, which was also beginning to turn purple, and he was limping. “Little bastard caught me by surprise. He hit me over the head with, I don’t know, something, and laid me flat before I even knew what was happening.”

Charlie nodded his nose still bleeding, “Yeah, same here. He knocked me out into the hallway with the back of the door.”

Bill looked over at Ron and Harry, “They okay?”

“Ron took a bad blow to the head. We’ll have to get him to St. Mungo’s. Harry seems okay,” Charlie summed up quickly.

Bill gave Charlie a wry smile, “I suppose all three of us Weasleys should go check ourselves in St. Mungo’s.”

“Someone has to stay here with Harry. We can’t take him to St. Mungo’s. It’s not safe,” Charlie stated.

“It’s safe here?” Bill asked, feeling the large bump on his head.

“Good point,” Charlie conceded. “Still, we need to get Ron some help and we need to stay here with Harry.”

“I’ll go and see what I can drum up for help. Why don’t you do some patch up work on Ron. You’ve got more experience on that front. I’ll be back in less than five minutes, if I can’t find anyone to help; we’ll all go to St. Mungo’s together,” Bill replied seriously. “Oh and it would be good to figure out how to get Ron there.”

With a loud CRACK, Bill disappeared. Charlie came back over to where Harry and Ron were laying. Ron still hadn’t woken. Charlie seemed to assess him using a couple of spells Harry had never heard. Charlie started talking to Harry while still working on Ron, “It’s kind of important when you work with dragons to know basic first aid. I think he’ll be okay. I’m guessing he just took a really bad blow to the head. He’ll probably have a nasty headache, but be fine.” Charlie abruptly changed tone, “Oh man, I’m going to have to explain this to Mum.” He started shaking his head. “And George hurt too. This is not our night.”

Charlie walked over to make sure that the attacker was still bound on the floor. He was, still unconscious. Charlie knelt next to him and seemed to assess him similarly to Ron. He called over to Harry, “What did you hit him with anyway.”

Harry was surprised at the question, “Just a stunner, nothing fancy.”

“Are you sure? I think he’s going to have to go to St. Mungo’s. I think he might have some internal injuries.”

Harry’s stomach turned at the information, “I’m sure it was just a stunner, but,” Harry drifted off, “there was a lot of emotion behind it. He stabbed me. I snapped and then hit him with the spell.”

Charlie looked over at Harry, “That will do it. The worse trouble I ever got in was when I hit Percy with a bat bogey hex after he had messed up my broom, I was twelve I think, and he would have been about nine. Mum had my hide. They had to take him to St. Mungo’s.”

Harry had to smile; the thought of a twelve year old Charlie hexing nine year old Percy was pretty funny.

With two loud CRACKS Bill and Percy showed up in the room. Harry gave Percy an angry look. But Percy didn’t seem to notice Harry at all; he looked between Bill, Charlie, and Ron.

“Hey Perc,” Charlie greeted cautiously. “What are you doing here?”

Percy answered, “Getting Ron to St. Mungo’s. I’ve got a permit for a Portkey here. I’ll take him there, if one of you could get Mum and Dad?” Percy looked at his older brothers expectantly.

Bill replied, “There’s no need to go get them, Percy. Mum and Dad are already there. George was injured tonight in the hospital attack. Fred and Ginny are probably there as well.”

Percy looked concerned at the news. He then took in Harry, and looked at him coolly. “Hello Harry,” he stated formally. “Looks like you’ve gotten my brother in trouble again.”

Charlie came to Harry’s defense, “This isn’t about Harry, Percy. It’s about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named.” Charlie addressed Bill, “You and Percy take Ron and go, I’ll stay here with Harry. Send some more help my way, if you can. Defending against Muggles is a lot harder than we were anticipating.”

Percy muttered, “Portus,” to one of the empty bottles by Harry’s bed. Percy took it over to where Ron was laying and put the bottle in his hand. Percy held the top of the bottle, and counted down, “Five, four, three, two, one.” In a whirl of color, Ron and Percy vanished.

Charlie gave Bill an exasperated look, “The only help you could find was Percy? Mum is already under enough stress without Percy walking in and starting another row.”

Bill shrugged, “You have to admit, no matter what Percy’s problems with the rest of us are he would never do anything to hurt Ron or Ginny. He could get Ron to St. Mungo’s, we couldn’t. You can count on blood.”

“I suppose,” Charlie conceded, “But you better get there and keep him under tabs. You might want to get that large mass on your head checked out as well. It could leave a mark.”

Bill smiled a dry wry smile. He looked between Harry, Charlie, and the attacker, “I send someone soon. You might want to take care of that nose, although I must admit, it does look better.”

Charlie smiled back, “Very funny,” he said and then Bill Disapparated.

Charlie walked over to where Harry was sitting alone on the floor. He pulled Harry into a standing position and helped him limp over to his bed. Harry lay down again, to keyed up to sleep. He arranged himself until he felt comfortable.

Charlie sat down on the floor between Harry’s bed and the door, pulled out a Skiving Snack Box. He found the nosebleed nougat and bit off the healing half. His nose bleed stopped instantly. “These are quite handy, and tasty to boot.”

“What do we do now?” Harry asked Charlie.

“We wait,” Charlie answered, watching the door.

“Wait?”

“Yep, we wait. Shouldn’t take to long I’d guess.”

“What are we waiting for?” Harry questioned puzzled.

“It could be several things. We could be attacked again, or reinforced by Wizards, or overrun by Muggles. Or maybe all three. I hope Bill sends someone soon. If you and I are attacked again I don’t know how long we could hold out.”

“Then why did Bill go to the hospital with Ron? Percy could have taken care of him. Percy is a prat as far as I’m concerned, but he would have taken good care of Ron.”

“Bill has a concussion from that blow to the side of his head. You probably wouldn’t have noticed it, but his eyes were doing funny things. Generally speaking, you don’t want a Wizard with a head injury trying to produce spells. Things just don’t go right. There once was a guy I worked with in Romania who was knocked into a tree after trying to subdue a Norwegian Ridgeback. He then tried to stun the dragon again, He did produce a stunning spell, but instead of subduing the dragon, it had the opposite effect. The dragon was invigorated, and it took another four people to bring the dragon down. That’s pretty rare effect, most of the time with a head injury the spells just don’t have the amount of power that they usually have. But you just don’t know what’s going to happen. I’d rather face twenty armed Muggles alone then with Bill in that kind of state.”

“I didn’t realize that,” Harry said thoughtfully, “It’s not something I’ve ever run into in the past.”

“No, I expect not. I didn’t learn about it until I started working with dragons. Lots of people get injured in my line of work.”

“I suppose,” Harry agreed. “Why did you decide to start working with dragons?”

Charlie smiled, “All of us Weasleys develop a taste for danger and adventure at some point, well, except maybe Percy. I wanted to work with magical creatures and I wanted to do something adventurous. Dragons were the only thing that fit both of those desires.” Charlie chuckled and continued, “I’ve heard that you and Ron both want to become Aurors.”

“Yeah,” Harry admitted, “it’d be cool. But I don’t know if I’m going to get the marks to do it. I need an O in potions in order to get the NEWT level, and I need NEWT level potions to get into Auror training. I doubt I did that well in my OWL potions exam.”

Charlie smiled again, “I seriously doubt that Snape is going to be able to keep you out of his NEWT level class if you want to take it. It’s Dumbledore’s school, and you are Harry Potter.”

“So? What does that have to do with it? McGonagall told me that I wouldn’t be able to get in without an O in potions,” Harry defended.

“That’s true, and in most other cases, she’d be right. But you are the person responsible for bringing down You-Know-Who the first time, and he’s still coming after you now. Dumbledore would allow you to study anything that you wanted. They’d probably give you a key to the restricted section of the library if you asked for it.”

There were two large CRACKs and Mr. Weasley and Fred appeared in the room.

Charlie stood up, “Dad, Fred.,” he said clearly looking relieved. “I’m glad you’re here. What are we going to do?”

Mr. Weasley said, “Harry still needs to stay here for the time being. I’ve called in the Ministry of Magic. They are going to send a squad of Aurors to protect Harry. The Ministry is going to relocate Harry’s aunt and uncle to a hospital in London, and provide housing for his cousin and his uncle’s sister there. That will allow us free use of this house until the Order can put together better protection. Charlie, you need to get to St. Mungo’s and get your nose fixed up. Harry, you are going to continue to receive Muggle treatment for your injuries, but Dumbledore insists that you keep taking the Dreamless Sleep Potion. Hermione’s parents will come and stay here with you as soon as the house is secure.”

Mr. Weasley handed Harry the bottle of Dreamless Sleep potion. “Drink up, Harry,” he said. “Charlie, get going. Fred and I will be fine until the Aurors get here.”

Harry quickly thanked Charlie, and then watched him disappear. Harry took a couple of drink of the potion and then quickly faded away into a peaceful, dreamless sleep.

When Harry woke, it was much later, and judging by the light coming through his window, it was probably mid evening. He looked around the room and he was completely taken aback. His room had always been sparsely furnished. Now there were two nice arm chairs, a couple of new side tables, and a portable cot. A rug was beside his bed. He was covered in a very soft knitted blanket, and there was nice bedside table next to the bed filled with fruit, rolls, and other sweets. Harry was flabbergasted.

He rolled over and helped himself to a pear sitting on the table and began to eat with voracity. He hadn’t had anything to eat since supper yesterday. Harry polished off the pear and was going after the chocolate frog when Hermione popped her head in the door.

“Harry,” she said looking delighted. “How are you feeling?”

“Hungry,” Harry said between mouthfuls. “Are you and your parents staying here now?”

“Yes, we are,” she began, “us and about ten Aurors. The Ministry of Magic sent in one group of Aurors to stay here with us full time. Your aunt and cousin left here around 8:00 am to go to London. Did you know that your aunt suffered a bad blow to the head in the attack this morning?”

“No,” Harry admitted, “I didn’t.”

“I don’t think she was really hurt at all, but the Aurors modified her memory anyway. The house was secure by about 8:30 and we came over then. Mum and Dad have been getting comfortable. I have received permission from the Ministry to use magic while I’m here to help out, just household spells, but we do need to cook and clean for fourteen people.”

Harry smiled at his friend, “I’m glad you’re here. I just hope that you won’t get hurt too.”

Hermione apparently understood what Harry meant, “Ron is fine, Harry. He has a concussion from the fall he took into the wall, but otherwise he is okay. I think they already sent him home to the Burrow.”

“What about George, Bill, and Charlie?” Harry asked anxiously. It seemed all of the Weasley brothers had been hurt because of him.

“They’re all okay as well. George had some minor internal injuries; I think he’s going home tomorrow. Bill also has a concussion, but he was treated and released. Charlie has a broken nose and some bruises.”

Harry rolled back onto his back, and stared at the ceiling, “This is really beginning to get old, Hermione. I’ve got to put a stop to this.”

“Put a stop to what? Voldemort? Come on, Harry. That’s not your responsibility, you are just caught in the cross fire. Probably because he wants to prove that he can kill you. I’m sure he’ll get tired of chasing after you in awhile and go on to other plans. We just have to weather the storm until he does.”

“He’s never going to stop, Hermione. It won’t stop until one of us is dead,” Harry stated flatly to the ceiling.

“You don’t know that, Harry,” Hermione chastised.

“Yes, I do,” Harry turned to look at her. “I heard the contents of the prophesy, Hermione. It won’t stop until one of us is dead.” Harry hadn’t really meant to bring up the prophesy again, but it seemed to be foremost in his mind and his thoughts always came back to it.

Hermione’s look changed from one of reassurance to puzzlement, “What did the prophesy say, Harry? And how did you hear it?”

Harry looked at her, “I should really wait until Ron is here, but, Dumbledore told me the contents of the prophesy when you and Ron were in the hospital wing. Professor Trelawney gave it to him sixteen years ago at the Hogshead. I don’t remember exactly what it said. The point of it was that a baby born at the end of July of that year would have the power to destroy the Dark Lord. It said something about the Dark Lord marking him as his equal.” Harry pointed to his scar, “and that neither one of us can live while the other survives. So it’s not going to stop until one of us is dead.”

Hermione stopped and thought for a moment. Her eyes screwed up in concentration. “A baby born at the end of July will have the power to destroy the Dark Lord… So that’s what you meant about Neville?”

“Huh?”

“When you broke down in the hospital, you said something like ‘Why couldn’t have been Neville’. I wondered about that at the time. But you were saying that Neville could have been the one in the prophesy and not you. His birthday is also in July, right?”

Harry remembered now, “Yes it is. It could have initially been Neville or me. But Voldemort picked me, not Neville. Dumbledore thought it was because I’m a half-blood. But Voldemort didn’t hear the entire prophesy so he didn’t realize that if he tried to kill me, it wouldn’t work. He didn’t know that the curse would only mark me, and not kill me. He didn’t realize the spell could rebound.”

Hermione pondered for a moment, “So the prophesy that Voldemort wanted said that you were going to be the one with the power to destroy him?”

“Yes it did.”

“But he didn’t find that out.”

“No he didn’t. He knows some of it, based on the information he had at around the time we were born.”

“So he still doesn’t know all of it?”

“As far as I know, he doesn’t.”

“That gives us the advantage, Harry. It gives us information that he doesn’t have.”

“I don’t see how that will help,” Harry said despondently. “I still don’t know what power I have, or what power I have that he doesn’t have.”

“You have power Harry, I’ve seen it. So has everyone else.”

Harry’s anger flashed, “You weren’t there, Hermione. You’ve never seen the kind of power that he has and he doesn’t have any reservation about using it. Like Cedric, Voldemort killed him simply because he was in the way. He didn’t know Cedric, he didn’t care who he was, or who his family was, all he cared about was that Cedric was in the way at the time. So he up and killed him. He’s ruthless.”

Hermione soothed, “You’re right, I’ve never been face to face with him. But I know he’s ruthless, powerful, and very clever.”

Harry was on the verge of breaking down again, “And somehow, I’m supposed to have the power to bring him down. Voldemort is going to keep trying to kill me until either he succeeds or I figure out how to stop him. The trouble is, I don’t have a clue of what I need do. And every person who is associated with me is in danger, including my uncle, aunt, and cousin who are Muggles. I have single-handedly gotten four of the six Weasley brothers injured in less than twelve hours.”

“It’s not your fault, Harry. There is no way that you could have anticipated these three attacks. How would have you known that Voldemort would be working with Muggles? Even if you had known, could you have done anything differently? You do your best thinking on your feet. Look at the Tri-Wizard Tournament, the Sorcerer’s Stone, and the Department of Mysteries, in all those cases you were able to do things that you normally wouldn’t have been able to do. You managed to get all of us out of the Department of Mysteries alive. There were ten Death Eaters, by all rights, we should have all died.

“We never should have gone to the Department of Mysteries, and you knew that even before we left,” Harry responded despondently.

“No I didn’t know. If I had known for sure, I would have stopped you somehow.” Hermione sighed, “I knew that if you could access Voldemort’s thoughts, then he would be able to manipulate you, by planting thoughts in your head. You never realized that could happen. Am I right?”

Harry nodded, “And I never bothered learning Occumency either. I not only didn’t realize I could be tricked; I never tried to shut off the connection. I compounded the problem.” Harry couldn’t stop the tears from coming now, “and Sirius died because of my mistake. If it wasn’t for me Sirius would be alive right now, probably sitting by the fire at Number 12, Grimmauld Place.”

Hermione came over and took Harry’s hand. She gave it a comforting squeeze. “Harry, if it wasn’t for you, Voldemort would have dismantled the Wizarding world sixteen years ago, and Sirius would have probably died in the war. You gave him and everyone else a second chance.”

Harry’s grief turned instantly to anger, “But I didn’t do anything. It wasn’t me that stopped him. Everyone thinks that I’m this hero, but I’m not.”

“You did stop Voldemort, Harry. Nobody knows how, but you did. Look at through Mrs. Weasley’s perspective. She had six young children by that point. They were living in a small house, hiding out because Mrs. Weasley’s brothers were a part of the Order. She was scared to death that they were going to be murdered. If they did live through it, she was afraid that Hogwarts would be closed, and her children would have no magical education, meaning no future. The Weasleys aren’t like you and me. They don’t know enough about the Muggle world to exist in it. So there she was, with six small boys, and no hope for the future. That’s when you stopped Voldemort. You restored her hope. You restored the hope of all the Wizards in the world.”

“But it was a flute,” Harry said angrily desperately trying to hold on to the anger. The anger was covering the grief, which was poking through, and Harry would rather be angry.

“You don’t know that. You don’t why the curse rebounded. I don’t think anyone does. The important thing is that you lived.”

“I wish I wouldn’t have,” Harry whispered, “I wish that I would have just died with my parents.” Harry’s grief overcame him again. He started crying again. “Then I wouldn’t have had to deal with…This.”

“Oh Harry,” Hermione breathed quietly. “You don’t really mean that.”

Harry couldn’t answer, he just quietly sobbed in his bed, thinking of Sirius, his mother and father, and the fact that he would have to kill Voldemort. In a way, he was mourning for himself too. The Harry that played Quidditch, made up Divination homework, and liked Cho Chang was gone. The new Harry was consumed by grief and duty. The new Harry has to worry about destroying a person so evil that most people refused to say his name. The new Harry was a man, with a duty and a responsibility that was beyond what most adults have. It all happened so fast. One morning, he was a fifteen year old taking exams with fifteen year old problems, and by that night, he was fifteen year old adult, with more responsibility than he could bear. Even now, several weeks later, it was still overwhelming.

Hermione was talking soothingly to him, “I’m here Harry, and you’re not going to do through this alone. I’m here.”

Hermione’s simple assurances of friendship made Harry’s grief completely break free. He cried and cried and cried. Hermione sat with him, and at some point she helped him sit up and held him while he sobbed.

Finally, Harry was able to say, “I just don’t know what I’m going to do. I don’t know how I’m going to do this.”

Hermione broke the hug and looked at him, she was crying too, “You don’t need to know right now. Right now you just need to get better. You can worry about Voldemort later, when you’ve regained your strength.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” Harry said despondently.

“But it’s true Harry. There is nothing you can do right now. Right now all that you can do is recover both physically and mentally. Right now, you’re not ready to face any more attacks. Both Dumbledore and the Ministry of Magic know that. You will be closely guarded the rest of the summer. They’re working on it right now.”

There was comfort in that thought. Harry latched on to it. He would have to face Voldemort again, but not now. Not for the entire summer, Dumbledore had seen to that. He was able to relax somewhat and the other emotional pain came up, “I miss Sirius, Hermione, I really miss him.”

Hermione didn’t know what to say, she just looked at him sadly.

A new voice came into the room from the doorway, “You always will miss him, Harry. But eventually it won’t hurt so much. It will get better. It will take a lot of time, but someday you’ll be able to think about him, and it won’t hurt anymore.” Mrs. Granger was standing there observing the two teenagers. “The best thing you can do is just talk about him when you need to, and cry if you need to. Letting the hurt out will help.”

Harry doubted it, because after discussing this whole thing with Hermione he felt worse not better. He would rather not feel at all. He merely nodded to Mrs. Granger and said, “Thanks.”

“Are you okay for visitors, Harry? There are a few people downstairs who need to talk to you, several actually.”

“That depends,” Harry said, “who are they?”

“Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape need to discuss some things with you. The Minister of Magic is here waiting to talk. Your old Professor, Remus Lupin is also here. Apparently he needs to talk to you about some legal documents your parents left. Your doctor should be here in about thirty minutes, and he’ll want to talk to you as well.”

Harry sighed and dropped back into his pillows. “They all want to talk, now?” Harry asked. “Do you suppose it could wait until the morning?”

“I have kept them waiting most of the day already, Harry,” Mrs. Granger answered. “I will tell them that you are indisposed, if you really can’t talk. But I’m sure they wouldn’t have waited this long if it wasn’t important.”

Harry was surprised, “Mr. Fudge waited here all day for me to wake up?”

“Fudge is not the Minister of Magic any more, Harry,” Hermione answered, “he was forced out of office after the attack here at Privet Drive. They said that he was incompetent. There is an interim Minister. It’s a woman, her name is Amelia Bones. Susan’s Bones Aunt, I believe. She’s been waiting for a couple of hours to see you. She and Dumbledore have been in the den most of the afternoon.”

Harry digested the new information. He always had thought that Fudge was incompetent, so that wasn’t surprising, but the fact he was forced out was. “They really forced him out?” Harry asked Hermione.

“Yes they did. Between the fiasco at the Department of Mysteries, and then the huge attack and breach of secrecy at your house, the public was demanding that he leave office. They are really upset that Fudge tried to discredit you and Dumbledore rather than admit the Voldemort had returned.”

Hermione’s Mum chimed in, “What it really came down to was you, Harry. From what I understand, Fudge put himself firmly on a side against you and Dumbledore. When Voldemort showed up in the Ministry, Fudge lost face. He had been assuring the public for months that there was nothing to worry about, but then there was Voldemort in the middle of the Ministry of Magic. Then you were attacked by Death Eaters. That was a huge. At least three Aurors and five Muggles died in that attack. Only one Death Eater was apprehended, and they are still trying to clean up the mess. Everyone was angry. They said, and rightfully so, that if Fudge had acted sooner, most of this wouldn’t have happened. The public was angry because the Ministry didn’t realize that you would be a target. The public is angry because no one was taking care of you.”

Hermione started talking again, “You should just see the Daily Prophet today, Harry. I have it downstairs. The headline was ‘Boy-Who-Lived Attacked at Muggle Hospital, Narrowly Escapes Death.’ They’ve had a field day with it. There was an article about Muggle Hospitals and the surgery you went through. There is an article about the Weasley family and how they protected you at all costs, resulting in the injuring of four of their seven children. There was an article about Squibs and their rights for magical transportation.”

Harry took it all in without comment. Fudge forced out of office, and the public finally came around to the truth. He didn’t know what to think.

“So, Harry,” Mrs. Granger began again, “do you think you could talk to everyone downstairs? I will send them away if you don’t feel up to it.”

Harry was a bit puzzled, Mrs. Granger was willing to tell Dumbledore, Lupin, Snape, and the Minister of Magic to shove off if he didn’t feel up to talking? “I have a choice?” Harry asked.

“Yes, you do,” Mrs. Granger said firmly, “I’m not about to put you through any more ordeals if I can possibly help it. You legally are my ward now and if you don’t feel like talking, I’ll send them all packing.”

Harry felt a rush of gratitude toward Mrs. Granger. She was willing to stand up for him. No one had ever done that before. He supposed that’s what parents did. Not that he knew. But like Mrs. Granger said earlier, what Dumbledore and Amelia Bones wanted was probably important or else they wouldn’t have waited so long.

“I can talk,” Harry said, adjusting himself in his bed again. He felt a little sheepish and asked, “is there any way I could some more to eat?”

Hermione’s mum brandished a plate that contained a Shepard’s pie, “Hermione made them for supper, using magic. I hope you like it.” She handed the plate over to a very grateful Harry. She continued, “I’ll run down and tell Dumbledore that you are up and ready to talk. I’ll give you a few minutes so you can finish eating first.” She left the room, leaving Harry and Hermione alone again.

“Are you okay?” Hermione asked him, “and please be honest. I’m like your big sister now.” She smiled at him mischievously, “I’ve always wanted a little brother, and I suppose you’ll do.”

Harry laughed, “Your little brother huh? I guess you got all the brains in the family.”

She shot back, “You got all the strength. So are you okay?”

Harry thought for a minute about the question, and then said honestly, “No, I’m not okay. I miss Sirius, and I hurt. But, I think that I’m going to be okay. Like your mum said, it’s just going to take time. And like you said, I don’t have to face Voldemort again for awhile. I can get better, and let other people deal with him, until I’m ready.”

Hermione smiled at him watched him wolf down his food. A few minutes later, Dumbledore walked into the room., followed closely by Professor Snape, Professor Lupin, and Madam Bones.

“Hello, Harry,” Dumbledore said cheerfully, “how are you feeling today?”

“Fine,” Harry said looking between Dumbledore, Lupin, Snape and Madam Bones.

“Harry, this is Madam Bones, she is the new Minister of Magic,” Dumbledore introduced.

She extended a hand to Harry, “Hello, Harry. We’ve met before, at your hearing for using magic out of school. I wish I would have a chance to meet you under good circumstances.”

Harry smiled back to her. He didn’t know what to say. She seemed to be businesslike, no nonsense type of person, like Professor McGonagall. She wore black robes and her hair was pulled back, but she didn’t look nearly as severe as his head of house.

Hermione moved to excuse herself and leave, but Harry laid his hand on her arm and shook his head. Harry noticed Hermione’s mum enter the room as well. Hermione got the message and sat at the foot of Harry’s bed. Hermione’s mum walked over and brought a chair to the foot of the bed and sat down herself. The rest of the party found chairs around the room and brought them to Harry’s bedside. Except for Snape, he refused to sit down but retreated to the far corner of the room and leaned against the wall watching.

Madam Bones began, “To begin with Harry, I want to offer my apologies. The former Minister of Magic, Mr. Fudge, was not as responsive to You-Know-Who’s return as he should have been. If certain steps had been taken initially, we could have spared you a lot of suffering. For that I’m truly sorry."

Harry still didn’t know what to say so he just nodded.

She continued, “I have been in discussion with Dumbledore and the cabinet about you and your safety. The Ministry realizes now that you are the primary target for You-Know-Who, for the same reason he tried to destroy you as a baby. You are the last of the Potters.”

Harry looked surprised, Voldemort was indeed after him, but it was because of the prophesy, not because of his family. Or was it?

Madam Bones continued, “Therefore, we are appointing a guard of Aurors to stay with you until your return to Hogwarts in the fall. Once you get to Hogwarts, your guard will be increased to help protect the school from attacks. Hogwarts is both more protected and more vulnerable than any other Wizarding site. We want you and your classmates to be protected, but we don’t want to completely ruin your school days either."

Dumbledore picked up, “We have been in search of a safe house for you until the end of the summer. The situation has gotten far too dangerous and complicated for you to stay here at Privet Drive. Your aunt and uncle have lives in the Muggle world, and our constant guard of you will cause problems. They will be safer if you are away from them.” Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled; he knew that Harry wanted nothing more than to be away from the Dursleys.

Madam Bones started talking again, “We have been searching for this place with help from your father’s colleague,” she nodded to Lupin, “and his cousin,” she nodded to Snape standing in the corner.

Harry reeled, his father and Professor Snape were cousins? Harry’s eyes flew to Snape in the corner, “You never told me that you and my dad were related.”

Snape’s eyes flashed and he said angrily, “It was never a fact that I was particularly happy about, Potter.”

Madam Bones continued, “Lupin here has been working on some property that your grandparents owned in Wales. It hasn’t been in use for many years, but he thinks he can get it shape for you to stay there in three of four days. We are going to take extra time to put a Fidelius Charm on the house. There are a several other charms that we’re going to attempt for added protection, a Muggle Repelling Charm for one.

“Additionally,” she went on, “I’ve asked Lupin to become your liaison to the Ministry. He will be kept up to date on all issues related to Death Eater activity. He will be our direct contact to you. He will also provide reports on your health and well being back to the Ministry, as a matter of public interest.”

Harry was confused, “As a matter of public interest?”

She looked over at Dumbledore before she continued, “There has been questions raised in the public, about your life and the intentions your parents had for you, given their will. Many people believe that your parents would not have wanted you raised by Muggles.”

Harry shrugged, “I was sent here for my own protection. My parents probably would have wanted me to be raised in a Wizard household, but I understand why I had to come here.” Harry finished his thought in his head, ‘even if I hate it here.”

“I understand that now, after discussing with Dumbledore,” Madam Bones stated, “the general world at large doesn’t understand that. As soon as you are moved to more appropriate housing for the summer, with your permission, I will release that knowledge to the public. It would stop the owls demanding the revocation of your Aunt’s guardianship.”

“Sure,” Harry said offhand, “it doesn’t really matter to me.”

“I would also ask you, Harry, to please refrain from making any statements to the press,” Madam Bones pressed Harry, some anxiety in her voice now.

“What do you mean?” Harry asked puzzled.

“Several months ago, you gave an interview to the Quibbler. I understand why you gave this interview. Fudge’s treatment of you at the time was unjust and in my opinion criminal. However, we are in the middle of a war. You are a target, some would argue,” she looked over at Dumbledore again, “the prime target of You-Know-Who’s new vendetta. That puts both you and us in a strange position. You will end up knowing a lot of the internal Ministry intelligence about his activities. I cannot allow you to share this information with the Quibbler or the Daily Prophet. It could undermine many intelligence operations that we have planned. For now, I’ll take your word that you will not release any confidential information. I will, in the near future, bring over documents that will ensure your silence. We are essentially going to be giving you high level government clearance. The paperwork will take some time. When the documents are ready, Dumbledore or Lupin can explain the significance of them and their consequences. Do I have your word that you will not release any confidential information to the public?”

“I guess so, sure,” Harry said unsure, “but how do I know it is confidential?”

“Let Lupin be your guide,” she said firmly. “He can let you know.”

Harry felt better, “Yeah then, that’s fine. I won’t release any information that Professor Lupin says I shouldn’t.”

“I know this is going to be tough, Harry, but please try and stay out of the public view for awhile,” she said with a smile, “I know that trouble always seems to find you, but it would be better for everyone if you laid low.”

“I’ll try,” Harry said with a frown.

“Good. Thank you for your time Harry. I’ll have those documents sent over to you as soon as they’re ready. Remember to try and keep a low profile. The Ministry will be in touch. Most importantly, stay safe, I’d hate to see you in another difficult situation.” She turned and with a smile to the adults in the room, she walked out into the hallway and Apparated away.

Harry wanted to stop and think about all the revelations that Madam Bones had just laid on him, including the fact that Professor Snape was related to him. But he couldn’t, there were still three other people in the room who needed to discuss more issues with him.

Dumbledore started up on a new topic, “How are you feeling, Harry?”

Harry hadn’t really considered his injuries since he woke up. His emotional pain had been all consuming. Now that Dumbledore asked, he realized that he was feeling better. There was still some pain, but he felt stronger, more with it.

“I’m feeling better, actually,” Harry admitted. “I’m not ready for a Quidditch game or anything, but I feel stronger.”

“That’s good, Harry. Those potions you took last night are helping. Severus, would you bring over the rest?” Dumbledore asked, turning to look at Snape leaning against the wall.

Snape pulled out another group of small bottles and walked over to Harry’s bedside. Harry looked over at him curiously.

“What, Potter?” Snape sneered at him.

“You and my Dad were really cousins?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“Yes, it is a fact that neither one of us was very happy about,” Snape said scowling.

“Why?” Harry once again couldn’t help but ask. He knew by Snape’s attitude that he was on shaky ground, but he needed to know why no one had told him. It seemed like a rather large oversight, why hadn’t anyone bothered to tell him that his potions teacher was related to him. Considering the number of actual relatives he had up to this point, it would have been nice to know. He had thought that all of his father’s family was dead.

“Well, Potter, your grandfather and my mother were brother and sister. My grandfather, your great-grandfather, Dean Potter, lived a double life. He had a wife and a son who lived on the Potter manor. They would be your great-grandmother and your grandfather. He also had a mistress and daughter who lived on a piece of property in Wales, my grandmother and mother. It all came out after he died. He called for a great deal of property to be settled on my mother from his estate. But your great-grandmother prevented any money being settled on my mother at all. She even evicted them from their house in Wales. My grandmother and mother were destitute, thanks to your family. Your father inherited the entire Potter estate and all the money, even though my mother was still living. My mother took her case to the court to petition for her part of the estate, now that her brother was dead. The court was in the middle of deciding the case when the Dark Lord killed your mother and father, leaving you an orphan hero. The court decided to give you the entire estate, saying that an orphaned baby needed the money worse than she did.”

Harry felt sick to his stomach. He has always assumed that his family was good people. He hadn’t realized that they could do something so wrong. That would explain the large number of galleons in his vault at Gringotts.

“Now, Severus,” Dumbledore said gently, “there is more to it than just that. You are leaving out some of the, shall we say, other details.”

“I think I covered it quite well, Headmaster,” Snape said coolly.

Lupin spoke up for the first time, “So you’re forgetting the fact that at the time your mother was petitioning the court, your father was on trial for being a known associate of Voldemort.”

“That is irrelevant, my father’s companions have nothing to do with the callous actions of my mother’s family,” Snape retorted angrily.

Dumbledore answered in a voice of utter calm, “But the actions of the court at the time do attempt to make amends. The court settled on your mother an annual sum from the property to be paid to her until her death, at which time the annual sum will be transferred to yourself. Since she is your step-mother it was good of them to do that. You aren’t related to the Potter family by blood, but they gave you rights to it as if you were. It doesn’t go nearly enough to repair the damage of past wrongs, but perhaps it will serve your mother well in her retirement.”

“Perhaps,” Snape said coolly, the anger replaced by the cold demeanor again. “In any case, Headmaster, I have the potions for Potter. The same three as before, a blood restoring potion and two general restoratives. I believe these will repair enough of the damage that he should be released from Muggle care by the end of the week.”

“Thank you Severus,” Dumbledore said warmly. “Would you bring them over again tomorrow?”

“Certainly,” Snape said with a look of pure disgust at Harry. “We can’t let our orphan hero down,” the sarcasm dripping from every word.

Harry’s anger flashed at his potion’s master, “I’m not a hero, and I didn’t ask for this. Do you think I wanted my parents to be murdered? For what’s it worth, I’m sorry that some great grandparent of mine that I didn’t even know treated your mother poorly. I’m sorry that my father, who I also didn’t know, treated you poorly in school. But there isn’t a whole lot I can do about it.”

For some reason this made Snape smirk a merciless smile, “But there is Potter, there is. You can stop the Dark Lord. If you are able to stop him, you will have done a lot for us all. And if you die in the process all the better, then my poor mother will finally have the wealth she deserves.”

“Now Severus,” Dumbledore said his voice with an edge.

“She can have it. Leave me enough money to get through school and find a job, but she can have the rest. Like you said, I probably won’t live through this anyway.”

Snape questioned sardonically, “Like you would just give your fortune away to a person you never met?”

“It sounds like it’s hers to begin with,” Harry said annoyed.

“That’s enough,” said Dumbledore quietly but firmly, “Thank you again Severus, I will expect to see you back here tomorrow. As for the matter of the Potter family fortune, that will be decided at a later time, when Harry has recovered.”

Snape nodded to Dumbledore and without another glance at Harry, he Apparated away.

Lupin stood up and started to fume, “The nerve of him, passing himself off as some kind of innocent victim in all of this.”

“You must understand Remus,” Dumbledore replied, “that he believes himself to be an innocent victim. He believes that if his mother had been given her share of her father’s estate that many of his problems would have been solved.”

“That’s supposed to be better?” Lupin asked.

“No, that’s just who he is. The sooner you understand him, the sooner you’ll understand that despite his apparent hatred of Harry, what he really hates is his family, and not necessarily Harry. Harry just looks so much like James, that he treats him like he treated James.”

“You’re defending him?” Lupin asked incredulously. “How can you defend that?”

“I’m merely explaining why he holds Harry in such contempt. At first glance, Harry is everything that he hated about James; he’s rich, arrogant, spoiled, and very talented. But you and I both know Harry, and understand that although in looks he is very like James, he is his mother’s son.”

For some reason that made Lupin look down, “Yes, I know. Harry is Lily’s. There is no doubt. He has the same kindness, acceptance, and need to help that Lily had. I have never known another person like her, and now him.”

Something about the tone of Lupin’s voice made Harry look at him closely. Lupin was talking wistfully, and his face was very sad almost mournful.

Lupin continued, “I wish things could have been different.”

Hermione, almost forgotten on the end of Harry’s bed spoke up, “Professor Lupin, what do wish was different?”

Lupin sighed, looked between Hermione, and Dumbledore, his eyes never resting on Harry.

Dumbledore prompted him, “Remus, you might as well let him know, Harry is learning the rest of the truth today, he might as well know your part in it.”

Lupin looked down at his hands, and then without looking at Harry he said, “I was in love with your mother. I loved her from almost the first day I met her. She was everything a woman should be, pretty, loving, kind. She always able to make me smile, and always there when I needed to chat. She found out from your dad that I was a werewolf, and instead of turning against me, she asked it there was anything she could do to make my life easier. She was the only woman in my life to have ever treated me that way. But James always wanted her, and I wasn’t going to get into the way. I couldn’t have given her the kind of life she deserved.” Lupin still was avoiding Harry’s eyes.

Harry didn’t know what to say.

Lupin continued, “That was why Sirius and I distrusted each other after your parent’s murder. I believed that Sirius was a spy and handed them over to Voldemort, and Sirius thought that I was the spy and handed Peter over to Voldemort. Sirius knew that I loved Lily. He knew that James and I had had a falling out about her. So he thought I was getting back at them, by handing Peter over. But you know the story behind that,” he said finally looking at Harry.

“So you loved my Mum,” Harry said tentatively.

Lupin looked down, “Yes, I did, I still do.”

“And my Dad knew it?” Harry asked.

“Yes, he did.”

“What happened?” Harry asked his head spinning.

“He asked me to stay away from her. He was worried that your Mum felt the same way I did.”

“Did she?” Harry questioned.

“I don’t know. I really don’t know. Sometimes I thought she did. But it didn’t matter. I wouldn’t have wanted her to be around me. I become a full fledged monster once a month and I can’t get work. That’s not the life that I wanted for her. She deserved so much; I couldn’t give it to her. So I never pursued it, I never talked to her about it. Eventually she and your father starting dating, and they were some of my only friends. Peter found out about my feelings, and told James that I was in love with Lily. I should have seen him for the rat he was then. Your dad and I had a row, and Peter, Sirius, and James forced me away, I was no longer welcome at your parent’s house. Up until the time of their death, your father believed that I was a traitor. Your mother knew better, but she couldn’t convince him. She continued to send me letters up until the day she died. She was so thrilled to have you Harry. She loved you so much. I got a very good chronicle of your life until she died. I should dig those old letters out for you, sometime. She talked about the new things you were doing in each letter. She was so thrilled when you learned to walk, and when you said Mama for the first time, she thought her heart would burst. You brought them so much joy, Harry. It’s really a shame that thing turned out the way they did.”

Harry was beginning to get a headache, his head was reeling with information overload.

Hermione spoke up from the end of his bed, “So you had a falling out with Harry’s Dad and Sirius right before his parent’s were killed.”

“Yes, we did.”

“Why then did you do so much for Harry in our third year?” Hermione asked, “if you disliked his dad so much.”

“I didn’t dislike James, and besides, Harry isn’t James. He might look like him, he might have as much talent as James, but his eyes are Lily’s. And I loved her, so much. Lily is alive in Harry and I would do anything to keep him safe.” Lupin finally looked Harry in the eyes, resolutely. “I know now Harry that I should have tried harder to help your parents. I should have aired my concerns about Peter, I should have tried harder to get back in their good graces. But instead, I was wallowing in self pity. I could have done more. I didn’t. Your dad will never know that I wasn’t a traitor, but at least now, you know that I’m not. It’s not the same thing, but it’s the best I’ve got.”

Harry was getting tired, for some reason, knowing that Professor Lupin was in love with his mother was more disturbing the finding out that he was related to Professor Snape. Snape was just one other relative who couldn’t stand him, Lupin’s confession had made a hole is his picture of his perfect family in his head. His mother would have really liked Lupin, Harry was sure of it. In fact, from what he knew of his mother, she probably would have liked Lupin more than his own father. And his father had turned away one his best friends over the love of his mother, and Harry couldn’t possible imagine ever acting that stupid. He couldn’t imagine ever turning away from Ron over a girl.

Mrs. Granger’s voice came over the room softly, “Excuse me gentlemen, but I think we need to wrap this up, Harry is looking like he’s getting really tired.”

Harry felt grateful to Mrs. Granger, what he really needed was some time to reflect and comes to terms with another new shift in his reality.

Unfortunately, the doctor popped his head into the room just at that moment and said cheerfully, “Hello Harry, how are you feeling?”

Harry looked at him and he really wanted to say that he felt better, but he ended up saying instead, “I’m tired, so tired.” Harry shut eyes and willed everyone in the room to go away.

Mrs. Granger spoke to the doctor, “Harry has been feeling better, I think. He’s just had some, shall we say, disturbing news from his school headmaster.”

Harry opened his eye to see Hermione’s mum looking over hard at Dumbledore.

Dumbledore said very softly, “Yes, you see doctor, I’ve had to accept the resignation of one of Harry’s favorite professors. Professor Lupin, won’t be returning to school this year. He was a good friend of Harry’s late parents. It’s regrettable that Remus won’t be coming to school this year, he is an excellent teacher. But it’s unavoidable; he has just accepted a new post as a government liaison. He is perfect for the job, and I must admit, the pay and benefits are better.”

The doctor looked between Harry, Professor Dumbledore, and Lupin. Dr. Hanne didn’t seem to buy the story. He said, “I seem to be getting a lot of interesting stories about you, Harry. But I’m not hearing much coming from you. Why don’t you tell me what’s going on?”

Harry thought for a moment. Technically everything Dumbledore had said was true. Lupin was his favorite professor, and he wasn’t coming back to school. Harry decided to stick with Dumbledore’s version of events. “Like Professor Dumbledore said, Professor Lupin isn’t coming to school this year.”

The doctor was still very skeptical, “And that’s enough to make you very tired? I mean I’m sure you’re disappointed and all, but this is all very irregular. First you come in with gunshot wounds. Then your school headmaster insists that you be guarded. Okay, I can buy that, it might be excessive considering the police arrested the gunman, but since your parents are dead, I thought it was good that someone seemed concerned about your welfare, considering your family situation. Then a bomb goes off outside the hospital, and your headmaster insists that you be brought back home for your own safety. From my information, the gunman was trying to do in your uncle, and the bomb was a result of teenagers messing around. It doesn’t have anything to do with you. You should still be hospitalized, you should still be under constant medical supervision, until I’m sure that you are going to be all right.”

Harry felt more tired than ever, before anyone else to say anything, he said, “Fine, whatever. Take me back to the hospital, or leave me here, or send me to the moon for all I care.” Harry looked between the doctor and Dumbledore and he said angrily, “I don’t care where I go. I’m apparently not old enough to take of care of myself, even though that’s what I’ve been doing for the last 15 years.” Harry looked at the doctor now, “You want to know how I’m really feeling? I’m ticked off. Everyone has kept me in the dark about my own life. No one has given me details that might have helped me make it through some long dark days.” He looked angrily at Dumbledore. “But,” he continued looking back to the doctor, “I’m actually feeling better. My pain is down and my wounds seem to be doing better.”

The doctor took the opportunity to check Harry’s dressings. He pulled back the bandages on Harry’s side. The hole was still there, but it seemed to be looking better. The doctor looked pleased and then checked Harry’s leg. That wound too seemed much better. The doctor took some vital signs, heart rate, blood pressure, temperature. He checked over a few other things as well and then turned to Mrs. Granger.

“Harry does seem to be doing better. His wounds are definitely on the mend. His heart rate and pressure are elevated, but that is probably his mood as much as anything. I don’t like this situation, I don’t like it one bit. But I have to admit, he’s made more improvement here than he was making at the hospital. The only reason I’m consenting to this at all is because you are a dentist and have medical training. If he shows any signs of any infection, even the slightest of fevers, I want him back in the hospital ASAP. If you don’t bring him in, I’ll have you brought up on child endangerment charges.”

The doctor turned to Dumbledore and continued, “This boy needs to heal, and he needs time to do that. I believe that you have his best interests at heart, but I don’t think you understand the kind of trauma he has been through. Please refrain from giving Harry any other bad news until his body has healed physically. Emotional concerns can really have an effect on how quickly someone recovers from something like this. I have seen cases where it takes months for someone to recover, just physically. The emotional scars can last much longer, Harry will likely start having nightmares. He’s going to need a lot of time.”

Dumbledore looked grave and said, “I know that Harry needs time, and I know that he will have emotional scars. I believe that he already has emotional scars, he still can remember the night his parents died.”

“Can you really?” The doctor asked Harry.

Harry nodded a curt short nod while the flash of green light and the sound of his mother screaming filled his head.

Dumbledore continued, “I’m making arrangements for Harry to have the time that he needs. As soon as he’s well enough, the he and the Grangers will go there for the rest of the summer. It’s an old cottage in the country. He’ll have fresh air, sunshine, and some peace for rest of the summer. He’ll have the time he needs.”

The doctor looked more satisfied, “As long as the Grangers are with him, I’ll consent. I would like to see him in late summer, before he goes back to school, to make sure everything is still healing well.”

“That won’t be a problem,” Mrs. Granger assured, “he’ll be back then. And if he develops a fever, I’ll bring him in right away.”

The doctor nodded to Mrs. Granger and then he said to Harry, “Please take care, and rest. If you need anything, let me know.”

“Thanks,” Harry said quietly. He appreciated the doctor’s concern.

The doctor looked at Dumbledore and Lupin and said, “Good day, gentlemen.” The doctor left the room.

“I’ll go reassure him some more,” Mrs. Granger said to Dumbledore and followed him out.

Harry relaxed back on the pillows and shut his eyes. Dumbledore brought over the potions that Snape had left. “Please drink these up, Harry. They’ll help your body to heal, and prevent any dreams.”

“Yeah,” Harry said drinking the first one in one gulp, “I can’t afford to dream. I can’t shut him out.”

“Harry,” Lupin said looking down at him, “it’s really going to be all right. Things are going to work out. I, more than your parents, or Sirius, am a realist. I know that things don’t always turn out the way we want them too, just look at most of my life. But I’m positive that you are going to get through this. And we’re not going to let you do it alone.”

Somehow, it made Harry feel better, even if it came from the man who shot a hole in his picture perfect family.

Dumbledore looked down at Harry and said, “As soon as we get your injuries all worked out, you’ll get to have a summer holiday, just like all the other students. We can worry about the prophesy when you are well and back in school.”

Harry finished all the potions, the last being the Dreamless Sleep Potion. He fell instantly into a dark refreshing place where he didn’t have to feel.

The next week at Number Four Privet Drive past quietly and peacefully. Marge and Dudley hadn’t been back, although Dumbledore had gotten word that Uncle Vernon was out of danger. He had a long recovery ahead of him, but they were sure he would pull through. Aunt Petunia was not much different than she was. The doctors were trying different medicines to help her. None of them yet were helping.

Harry recovery, with the help of daily potions, was very speedy. One week after the doctor’s row with Dumbledore, Harry was released from his care. Fifteen minutes after the release papers were signed, Harry took the Skelegrow potion. It wasn’t as unpleasant has it had been before. He only had part of one bone to regrow. The whole thing was done in a matter of hours.

Harry rested a lot during the week. It was really forced rest. In order to assure that Voldemort couldn’t penetrate his mind, Dumbledore had insisted that Harry take Dreamless Sleep Potion whenever he felt sleepy. This meant that Harry spend half of the week in dreamless sleep.

The rest of the time he spent with Hermione and Ron. Ron’s knock on the head had healed nicely and the three friends hung out as did at school. Per Harry’s request, Hermione had brought Ron up to speed on the contents of the prophesy. Harry was planning on having a discussion with them about it again, but he hadn’t yet felt up to it. The doctor had apparently made a point with Dumbledore because no one had brought up any emotionally trying topics since.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione talked about classes, Quidditch, and the house where they were all going to stay. Ron and Hermione carefully avoided any topics that would cause Harry any kind of distress. Harry didn’t mind. His waking hours that weren’t spent with his friends were spent dwelling on his new life. His life where Sirius was dead, and he was going to have to kill Voldemort or Voldemort was going to kill him. It wasn’t encouraging, and he preferred to pretend that nothing had happened.

Ron and Hermione had been affected by the events of the end of last term, but not to the extent that Harry was. They knew that he was changed by it, but Harry didn’t think they knew how much he had changed. He felt like that old Harry they knew was completely gone. He was bound in walls of grief and mourning and he couldn’t express it to his friends. He could hardly bear to feel it himself.

The third week of break started and Harry’s body was nearly recovered. He still limped from time to time when he got tired and his side still ached every so often, but with the continuing help of the potions, he did feel a lot better. The trouble was, the better he felt physically, the worse he felt inside. His one bright spot was that he would soon be moved to a house in the country. This was something to look forward too, even if his relatives weren’t at Privet Drive, it still felt like a prison.

Lupin had been in touch almost every day. He and Harry were having late night chats. Lupin would bring Harry up to speed on the Ministry efforts to contain Voldemort, and Harry would ask Lupin endless questions about his parents. The one thing that Lupin confession about his love for Harry’s mother brought out was that Harry really did not know his parents. He really had no idea what kind of people they were. He didn’t know those mundane details of their lives, like what they liked to do on Saturday nights, or whether or not they got along with Harry’s grandparents. He knew this type information about the Dursleys, he even had a good idea about the Weasleys and Grangers from the time that he spent with them. But Harry had no idea about his own parents.

Snape’s confession also hit home. Harry realized that he knew almost nothing about his father’s entire family. He had assumed that they all were dead, because as soon as he found out he was a wizard, he assumed that if he had any living relatives that he would have lived with them. Snape’s information brought out another dimension. He did have relatives, one at least, but the relationship with his father was so bad that Snape hated Harry on principle.

Harry decided that he needed to learn as much about his family as possible, and Lupin was the only one who seemed to know anything, or was willing to share. The problem was that Lupin’s information was limited. He only really knew James, not Harry’s grandparents or extended family. As Lupin pointed out, even good people don’t usually want a werewolf over as a house guest.

Hermione had agreed to help research his parents, but she said that over the summer she didn’t really have anyway to access information. She thought, back at school, she might have a chance at finding something, but it was still remote.

One night, during their evening chat, Lupin said to Harry, “I think we’ll be able to move to the summer house tomorrow.”

“Really?” Harry asked his eyes perking up.

“Yes,” Lupin said offhand, “I think that Bill has finished all the charms now. We also have to consider your relatives. Dumbledore said today that your Aunt is responding really well to the new medicine and she should be able to come home in the next couple of days.”

“What about my uncle?”

“I think he’s going to stay at the hospital he’s at for another couple of weeks. Then he’ll be sent back here for rehabilitation.”

“Since my Aunt Petunia is back, will the Grangers still be my guardians or will it go back to her?”

“For the time being, the Grangers will be your guardians. That doctor of yours saw to that. He told your case worker about all the scars on your body; that coupled with the neglect reports from your grammar school teachers was enough for your social worker to decide for you to stay with the Grangers until such time as your aunt wishes to have you back. She’ll have to petition the case worker for return of custody. And just because your aunt is coming home, does not mean she’s well. It will be a long time before she’s really in her head again.”

Harry sighed, “I hope the Grangers know that I’m going to be staying with them for a long time. My aunt never wanted me to begin with, and she certainly won’t want me to come back, now or ever, especially if she has to go out of her way for it to happen.”

Lupin sighed too, “I’m sorry, Harry. The Grangers do know that you will most likely being their ward until you turn seventeen. They knew that going in. But you never know, maybe your aunt and uncle will come around. Your aunt seemed like she cared when you were bleeding to death on her driveway.”

Harry snorted, “Maybe, but they almost chucked me out last year after the whole Dementor thing.”

Lupin looked uncomfortable again, “I’m sorry Harry. I really am. Like I’ve been telling you, it’s really a shame that you didn’t know your parents.”

Harry fell into silence. It was shame that he didn’t know his parents, or his grandparents. But he didn’t know what to say.

Lupin finally broke the silence by changing the topic, “We’ll be leaving around 7:00 pm tomorrow evening to head to the summer house. Pack up everything; I doubt that you’ll be coming back here for the rest of the summer.”

“How are we getting there?” Harry asked.

“I’m not exactly sure, but I think you and the Grangers are going by car. Some of your guard will accompany you, some will Apparate there early and some will wait until you’ve left and come after a few days. You may be going by Portkey, but I doubt it. I think that Dumbledore wants to keep the Ministry out of it as much as possible. He wants as few people as possible knowing that you’re leaving Privet Drive. Both he and Madam Bones are afraid that spies have already infiltrated the highest ranks of the Ministry.”

“Already? Voldemort already has spies in the Ministry?” Harry asked exasperated.

“Already, Harry. He’s had a year to work with no resistance. You can get a lot done in a year, trust me. Besides, the Ministry hired known Death Eaters years ago, like McNair, in the Disposal of Magical Creatures Office.”

“Isn’t it the Department of Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures?” Harry asked confused.

“Well, that’s what it’s supposed to be. It ends up being the Disposal of Magical Creatures, with a Death Eater as head executioner. McNair is only one example, I’m sure there were hundreds of Voldemort supporters who got away, and found respectable jobs in the Ministry. After fifteen years, they could be in any department at any level. Madam Bones isn’t convinced that Cornelius Fudge didn’t have connections to Voldemort somehow.”

Harry sighed, “It’s really hard to fight an enemy with so many unknown people. At least when you’re playing Quidditch you can see what you’re up against.”

“Yes, but this is a war Harry. There are no rules, and in the end, no winners.”

“What do you mean no winners? Someone will win in the end, either us or Voldemort.”

“No, if we win, we’ll still be losers.” Lupin looked pained and explained, “How many lives will be lost, how many people will be injured, how many people will have witnessed horrors beyond their worse nightmares? It won’t be good. But on the other hand, if Voldemort wins and takes over the Wizarding world, it will be much, much worse. Then there will be no hope for anybody, Wizard or Muggle. So that’s why we fight. That’s why your parents fought; they wanted a life for you. But anyway, we can’t dwell on that and you need to get some sleep, be ready to leave by seven tomorrow evening. Don’t forget to take your dreamless sleep potion.”

Harry nodded, and said, “Good Night, Professor Lupin.”

“Good night, Harry. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Harry was awoken the next morning by an extremely excited Hermione. “Did you know that we’re leaving today?” she asked as she opened the window, letting in the bright July sun. “Come on, get up, there is a lot to do before we go.”

Harry winced against the light and said, “What do we need to do? I can pack in a half an hour.” Harry sat up and looked at his over eager friend.

“Well, we do need to put the house back in order, and I’ll need your help to do it. There have been fourteen people living here for two weeks, and we need to put the house back exactly how it was before. Mum thinks that your aunt and uncle probably would be better off not knowing that you were here with house guests for a couple of weeks.”

“I’m not going to argue with that,” Harry conceded. “But can’t it wait a little while longer,” he said rolling over away from the light. “It’s really early.”

“No, it can’t, little brother,” Hermione answered. She picked a pillow and began whacking Harry with it. “Come on Harry, get up.”

Harry grabbed the other pillow and pulled it over his head. “No, go away.”

Hermione was persistent and finally Harry picked up his pillow and whacked her back with it. “Fine,” he said with mock anger, “I’ll get up.” Harry stood up and then as soon as Hermione let her guard down, Harry whacked her again with the pillow. He laughed and the two of them had several minutes pillow fighting fun until Hermione’s Mum came to the door.

She shook her head at them, “Kids,” she said exasperatedly. “Come on you two, let’s get some breakfast.”

Hermione was in such a good mood that it was infectious. Apparently, Hermione had never spent much time in the country and she was really looking forward to it. She and Harry had a very pleasant morning putting Number Four Privet Drive back in order. It took a lot longer than Harry was expecting. It was also a lot harder than Harry was expecting. They had to put all the knickknacks back in place, but Harry had never really looked at them. He was fairly clueless about where everything went. It was odd too, because Harry had dusted the living room more times than he could count, but he still didn’t know where the little statue from his uncle and aunt’s honeymoon went. He and Hermione made their best guesses at it and hoped that Aunt Petunia would blame the irregularities on Aunt Marge.

After lunch, they packed their trunks. Harry was finished in a half an hour. It took Hermione however, three hours to finish putting all of her stuff together. She was very organized about it, and everything was perfect when it was done. Harry was surprised at the number of books she had managed to pack in her trunk.

They still had a couple of hours to kill before they were due to leave. Hermione decided that they should watch some TV before they were without again for another whole year. They flipped it on, and flipped around until they found a decent movie. They watched it until it was over and then Hermione’s Dad came in and wanted to watch the news.

They consented, and the three of them watched the local evening news stories. There was a story about a break in at a local market, and then a story about a government official’s local business affairs. The news continued to say something about the continuing investigation into the hospital bombing. The last story before the weather caught Harry’s attention.

“Escaped convict, Sirius Black, has been confirmed dead. As you may remember, three years ago, Black, a violent criminal convicted of eight murders, escaped from a high security prison. Officials believed that Black had left the country. But today, it was confirmed that Black was killed during a battle with local law enforcement in London last month. One less thing we need to worry about... Now onto weather”

Harry’s stomach dropped. Somehow hearing about Sirius’s death on the Muggle news hit the point home. Sirius was gone forever, and he would never be coming back. Harry got up and quickly left the room. He went straight up to his room.

He was angry again. He was angry at the new caster for being so callous, but most of all he was angry with Sirius. Why had Sirius come to the Department of Mysteries? If he had stayed at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place he would still be alive. Why had Sirius left him? Sirius knew that Harry needed him, Sirius knew that Harry counted on him for advice, and now he had nobody.

Harry would have started to throw things, except that everything was packed. He was about ready to start kicking the wall, when someone came into his room. He said angrily, “I don’t want to talk Hermione, so just go away.”

“That’s not a good way to address my daughter,” Mrs. Granger said offhand. “I’m sure you’d hurt her feelings if you said that to her.”

Harry whipped around to see Mrs. Granger facing him. “I’m sorry,” he said turning back around. “I’d much rather be alone right now.”

“I know you would, which is why I’m here, and not my daughter. Hermione would listen to you and leave. I know better.”

“What do you know?” Harry asked indigently to the wall. He was being rude and he knew it, but he didn’t care.

“I know what it like is to lose someone very close to you. My mother died when I was a few years older than you.”

Harry turned back around to look at her, and his anger diminished somewhat, “I didn’t know that, I’m sorry.”

“Thanks, I’m okay now. I still miss her, I wish she could have met Hermione. But I remember what it felt like right afterward. I was so angry with her. I was angry that she left me. And then I felt guilty about feeling angry, and that would make me angrier. It was a viscous circle.”

“What did you do?” Harry asked.

“My dad helped me through it. He’s a psychiatrist, really good listener. He told me then, and I’ll tell you now, that it’s natural to feel angry with the person who has died. It’s okay to be angry with Sirius. It doesn’t change how much you cared about him, or what you thought of him when he was alive. Being angry is a natural part of grieving.”

Harry turned around again so he didn’t have to face Mrs. Granger. The tears were forming in his eyes. He was angry and he was sad all at the same time. He didn’t know what he felt.

Mrs. Granger walked over to him and put a hand on his shoulder, she gestured to the bed, and then she sat down in a chair, “Just talk to me, Harry. Tell me about Sirius. Tell me about anything, just talk to me. I’ll just listen.”

Harry sat down and started to talk. It started with talking about Sirius. He wound his way around the other issues in his life, about not knowing anything about his family, and about Lupin’s love of his mother. Harry couldn’t bring himself to discuss Voldemort yet. Hermione’s mum just listened. She injected a few thing here and there so Harry knew that she was still listening, but she left Harry talk until he had nothing more to say.

After a few minutes of silence, she said, “It’s okay to feel angry with Sirius and Lupin, and with your parents for that matter. The key is to not let the anger consume you. Feel it, experience it, and then be done. Let it go. Hanging on to anger doesn’t hurt the person you’re angry with, in fact it gives them power over you. Hanging on to anger only hurts you. In the case of Remus, it hurts the chances of you getting to know him, which I think you should. He’ll never be Sirius, but he misses Sirius every bit as much as you do. Having someone to share your grief with helps with the healing.”

She leaned over and gave Harry a quick hug, “I’ll be here when you need to talk some more. But we better get downstairs; I’m guessing we’ll be leaving soon.”

Half an hour later, the cars were loaded and Harry, the Grangers, and five guards headed northwest toward Wales and a county vacation.

Harry had never been on a vacation before. The Dursleys never took holiday trips, and the day trips they did take, they left Harry with Mrs. Figg. Mr. Granger insisted on driving himself. One of Harry’s guards, Tonks, was riding in the front seat with Mr. Granger. Mrs. Granger, Hermione and Harry were all riding in the back seat.

They were driving in a convoy with a Ministry car in front and behind them. All the cars were outfitted with Muggle cell phones, upon in the insistence of Mrs. Granger. She had said that she would need to stop several times, and they would need some non-magical means of letting the front car know. People Apparating in and out of moving cars on Muggle highways would be both dangerous and suspicious.

Harry had always heard that getting there was half of the fun, but he never really believed it. The car ride had proven him wrong. They had an enjoyable car ride, out of greater London and into the countryside.

After getting out into the country, Harry asked, “Where are we going anyway?”

“We’re going to travel to a town called Builth Wells. It is in the Powys region of Wales,” Tonks replied cheerfully. She had brown curly hair today and somehow had tailored herself to look like Hermione. She look as if she could have been Hermione’s sister. Tonks handed Harry a brochure. “Lupin gave this to me, it looks really beautiful.”

Harry took the brochure and the first picture was stunning. There was an old stone bridge over a river. The caption on the picture said, ‘18th Century Bridge across the River Wye’. “It is really pretty,” Harry commented.

“Let me see,” Hermione demanded.

Harry handed the brochure over to her. She read fervently, “This place looks nice, there is an art center. Hey, there are always all sorts of nature walks, and bicycle trails. There are shops and pubs. This should be really fun.”

Harry chucked, “Do you know how to ride a bicycle?”

“Of course I do, do you?” Hermione retorted.

“Actually, yes,” Harry shot back. “I always got Dudley old bikes, and he had lots of them.”

“So I guess a bicycle race is in order?” Hermione said, grinning.

“I guess so,” Harry said back, returning the grin.

“And the loser has to clean the dishes for the first week,” Mrs. Granger put in.

“Agreed,” Harry and Hermione said together.

“Great, then I don’t have to do any dishes for one week. It is a vacation,” Mrs. Granger said smiling.

“How long until we arrive?” Hermione asked her dad.

“It will be at least a few more hours. We’ll be arriving well after eleven. It’s getting dark, now. Why don’t you both rest a bit so you’ll be up to your bicycle race tomorrow. I know your Mum is looking forward to not doing dishes,” Mr. Granger said without turning around. “Should be a nice day tomorrow, you can go exploring with Tonks.”

“Yeah,” said Tonks, turning around and looking at them both, “I have my orders from the Ministry, look and act like a teenager for the next three weeks. They’ve assigned me to be your personal guard, Harry. What do you think? Do I look enough like a teenager? I’m trying to look like Hermione’s older sister. Maybe pink hair would be better.” She screwed up her face and her hair changed from a shade similar to Hermione’s to a hot pink.

Mrs. Granger, who had never seen anything of the sort before, gave an audible gasp. Mr. Granger looked over at Tonks, did a double take and almost swerved into the other lane of traffic.

Hermione, who had starting putting her knitting away, said offhand, “I think brown is better Tonks. We don’t want to draw too much attention to ourselves. We are going to a small town.”

“Okay,” Tonks said brightly, and quickly changed her hair back to a soft brown. “What do you think Hermione?”

Hermione glanced up and said, “That much better. Now you won’t attract attention.”

“How do you do that?” Mrs. Granger asked amazed.

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Tonks said turning to look at her. “It’s just an ability that I have. Someone has it in every generation of my Mum’s family. No big deal really. It helps with my line of work, and its fun at parties.”

Mrs. Granger shook her head in amazement, “That is truly a unique gift, even for a witch.”

“I have to admit, it is fun. Hermione, Ginny, and I had a game last year where I would change my nose on command. They seemed to really enjoy it,” Tonks commented smiling.

“I remember Hermione’s letters about that. I must admit that I didn’t really understand what she meant until now. I see why she was so fascinated by it,” Mrs. Granger remarked. “When did you realize that you could do this?”

Tonks began to tell Mrs. Granger a little bit about her childhood and when it happened that she realized she could change her appearance at will. Harry attention to the conversation waned, and he began to stare mindlessly out the window. Eventually, he rested his head on window and watched the oncoming headlights of the approaching cars. The effect was hypnotizing.

The lights would zoom past in a flash of brilliance and then the inside of the car would return to complete blackness. The further they drove the fewer cars they saw, until they drove for fully ten minutes before passing another vehicle.

Harry hadn’t intended on falling asleep, he hadn’t even realized that he drifted off before Voldemort attacked his mind. Harry could feel Voldemort’s presence in his head. His scar was on fire, it burned and ripped like it had been cut open again. Voldemort was desperately searching Harry’s memories. Harry watched helplessly as visions of his life flew through his mind out of his control.

It was similar to the experience in Snape’s office, but in one way it was completely different. Snape had been searching Harry’s mind for negative experiences, times when he was scared, angry, or hurt. Voldemort was bringing up mundane memories. He was seven and walking to school on a rainy morning, he was walking through Hogwarts in his third year, he was in the car with his aunt and uncle driving to Aunt Marge’s house, and then he was in the car with the Grangers traveling to Wales.

Somewhere in the back of his brain, Harry realized in panic that Voldemort was trying to figure out where he was and where they were going. Harry remembered throwing off the Imperious Curse and tried to recreate it. He thought ‘that’s enough’ and pushed at Voldemort presence. The image stream slowed somewhat, but Harry couldn’t throw him off entirely.

The effort of pushing at Voldemort had made his scar burn even more and the pain was becoming unbearable. It was hard for Harry to think at all. He tried again, ‘that’s enough’ he thought. The scar pain kicked up another notch, but the images kept coming. He was on the Hogwarts Express going home after his second year, he was on carriages going to Hogwarts, he was flying on his broomstick.

Harry tried again, but between the pain in his head, and the effort of trying to push out Voldemort, Harry was getting tired, ‘that’s enough’ he thought feebly, but this time nothing happened. Harry watched as more images flew by, walking to Herbology, walking to Hogsmead, riding Buckbeak. The rate of the memories flashed through increased and Harry knew it was only a matter of time until Voldemort found what he wanted.

Something popped into the back of Harry’s mind, Snape’s voice, ‘clear your mind of emotion, Potter.’ Harry tried to relax, he remembered the drugged out feeling he’d had over the last three week. The images of traveling still flew past. Harry realized that he couldn’t force Voldemort out of his head, anymore than Voldemort could force Harry out of his own. Harry needed to redirect. He needed to make it more difficult to read his mind. Harry brought to mind the lake at Hogwarts, and the peace and tranquility it afforded. Harry felt more at peace, he began to relax. He kept focusing his mind on the lake and even time Voldemort grabbed at a new memory, Harry pushed the lake memory into the front of his mind. Instead of fighting the memories flowing out, he tried to push out the lake memory.

It was working, it was slow, but it was working. Voldemort was still managing to bring up memories, but there were less and less new memories coming. The more Harry focused on the lake, the more he relaxed. The more he relaxed, the slower the memories came, until at last the image of the lake was the only one Voldemort could bring up.

All of a sudden, Harry’s scar felt like it split open. Voldemort was furious and dumped his anger into Harry with gut wrenching pain. Harry fought to keep the lake memory to the front, but Voldemort forced back in and started getting new memories again, angry memories. Harry thought about the lake, the cool water of the lake, and once again the memories slowed and then stopped until the lake was all Voldemort could get.

It was then that Harry finally thought, ‘that’s enough,’ and he pushed on the Voldemort presence to get out his brain. And he was gone. As soon as the attack was over, Harry realized that he was in pain, a lot of pain. He was still asleep, but he felt the pain.

Harry woke up with a scream of agony. He clutched his head in his hands and then vomited. He heard the voices of people around him, but he was in so much pain, he couldn’t tell what they were saying. Harry felt someone’s hands on him allowed himself to be steered out of the car and on the side of the road, down into the cool grass.

Harry vomited again into the grass. There were lots of bright light which were making his head hurt even more. He clutched at his head and vomited again and again. Finally the pain began to ease somewhat and he looked up to see Hermione, Mrs. Granger, Tonks, and Mr. Granger all standing over him.

Mrs. Granger bent down next to him, “My God, Harry are you all right? You’re bleeding, he’s bleeding, Tonks quick grab a towel out of the car.”

Harry began to shiver and then shake. Mr. Granger slipped off his jacket and then put it around him.

Hermione asked, “Harry, can you talk? What happened?”

“He attacked my mind,” Harry asked gasping between every word. “He wanted to know where we were going.” The pain was subsiding somewhat.

Hermione looked even more concerned, “Did he find out? Does he know where you are? Where we are going?”

“No,” Harry gasped. “I stopped him…Before he found out.” Harry touched his scar. The pain in his head was decreasing steadily now, but the scar felt funny. Harry pulled his hand away and looked at his fingers. His hand was covered in blood. His scar had started bleeding.

Tonks arrived with a bunch of napkins, and handed them to Mrs. Granger, “Sorry,” she said apologetically, “it’s the best I could do.”

The cool grass felt refreshing and Harry was slowly feeling better. Mrs. Granger put the napkins to Harry’s head to help stop the bleeding. The pain in his head was becoming manageable now. Harry just wished that the Ministry car behind them would shut off its headlights.

All of a sudden flashing light appeared behind them with the bright headlights. A police officer was pulling in behind them. A young man got out of the car and walked over to where Harry was. The officer looked to Mr. and Mrs. Granger and asked, “Is everything all right?”

Mr. Granger smiled grimly at the officer, “Yes, my boy here has migraines headaches. It causes him to be sick. We, all of us,” Mr. Granger gestured to all the cars, “are going on a holiday trip to Wales.”

The officer smiled back. “Does he need a doctor?” he asked. “I could escort you or call ahead for a doctor to be waiting.”

Mrs. Granger stood up from beside Harry and replied, “That’s very kind of you, but I think he’s going to be okay, are you all right Harry? Or do we need to get a doctor?”

Harry pushed himself up and Tonks leaned over to give him a hand. Once on his feet, he looked at the officer, “Thanks, but I’m going to be fine. I get these quite a bit. I’ll be better in a few minutes. And then we can get back on our way. The cool air does help.”

The officer smiled at Harry and then looked back to Mr. Granger, “I’ll leave you people be then. I’m going to sit behind you until you’re on your way. I don’t want anyone to hit you from behind. Have a good evening governor.”

“Good evening, constable. Thank you for stopping,” Mr. Granger replied back. “We’ll be on our way soon.”

The officer walked slowly back to his car, savoring the cool night. Everyone watched him go. Mr. and Mrs. Granger went along to Harry’s seat in the car and began to clean. Harry walked over and leaned against the car, taking long slow deep breathes. He was still shaking as if he was feverish, but the pain in his head was now a dull ache, rather than blinding pain.

“Snape will be happy,” Harry commented quietly to Hermione.

“Why?” Hermione asked leaning in so she could hear.

“Voldemort attacked my brain and I forced him out. I guess I did learn something in Occumency after all.”

Hermione shuddered a bit and then asked, “What happened exactly?”

“I must have fallen asleep, because I was looking out the window and then Voldemort was just there. He was running through my memories one by one. They were all traveling memories, times when I was in transit, either walking, driving, floo powder, any form of transportation. I’m sure he was trying to figure out where we were going. I tried to push him out at first, but I couldn’t. So instead I kept thinking about the lake at Hogwarts. I kept forcing him to view that memory only. Then he did some sort of mental attack, and he got back in again. I brought the lake back and eventually was able to push him out.”

“Your scar is bleeding again,” Hermione commented. “Do you know how that happened?”

“It must have been in the mental attack. I don’t understand how it could have split open again, but it must have been then.”

“I don’t understand either, but no one has ever lived through the Avada Kedavra curse before, so it probably has something to do with that,” Hermione commented thoughtfully.

Mr. Granger called from the other side of the car, “Harry, are you feeling up to going? We’ve pulled out your medicine to help you feel better.”

“Yes, I’m all right to go,” Harry replied back. He smiled at Hermione, “You’re parents are really great, Hermione.”

Hermione smiled back, “I think so. I miss them when I’m away; it makes me sad to think in my future life I’m going to live a separate life from them.”

“You won’t be separate from them. You will figure out a way to make it work,” Harry assured her. He walked over and climbed in the car. Hermione climbed in behind him.

“Yes, I suppose I will,” Hermione said thoughtfully.

Once in the car, Mrs. Granger handed Harry a couple of pills and a small potion bottle. “These are your pain killers Harry and a dreamless sleep potion. I was supposed to make sure you kept taking the potion. I didn’t realize how important it was. I was going to give it to you tonight once we got to the place. I didn’t understand. I’m sorry.”

Harry smiled at her, the shivering now subsided, the pain in his head almost gone, “There is nothing to apologize for, I didn’t remember either. Well, good night for now, I guess. Try and wake me when we get there.”

Harry took his pills with the Dreamless Sleep Potion and fell instantly asleep against the car window.

Harry woke to the morning sun streaming in the window onto his face. He sat up and looked around. He was in a small bedroom, with two beds. There was a dresser, a wardrobe, and one old chair. The floor was wood and covered in soft rugs. The room was very bright and sunny. Harry rubbed his head, where his scar still burned a bit and got out of bed.

He walked over to the window and looked out. Harry had never spent much time in Wales and he had to admit the view was beautiful. Out his window were green rolling hills for as far as his eye could see. The fields were filled with sheep and separated by old stone and wooden fences. The sun was just coming up over the fields and the morning mist still clung to the ground. It was picturesque.

Harry got dressed and wandered out of his bedroom. He was on the second floor of the house. He walked through the hallway to a set of front stairs. He walked down to the main level of the house. Judging by the sunrise outside, Harry guessed it was probably around six. Even so, there was someone in the kitchen. It was Remus Lupin, quietly sipping a cup of tea, looking out the kitchen window.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Harry remarked to Lupin’s back.

Lupin started and almost spilled his tea. “Oh, Harry,” he said recovering, “Good morning. You gave me quite a start.”

“Sorry,” Harry said sheepishly, “I thought you heard me come in.”

“That’s all right; would you like a cup of tea?” Lupin asked.

“Sure, thanks,” Harry answered.

“You’re up early,” Lupin remarked causally as he turned to pour out another cup for Harry. “Did you sleep well?”

“Apparently,” Harry said rubbing his head. “I guess I slept so well that they couldn’t wake me last night when we got here.”

Lupin gave Harry a small smile, “No, they couldn’t. Between the Morphine and the Dreamless Sleep Potion, you could have been struck by lightning and not waken up. Tonks had to use the Mobilcorpus spell to get you in the house. So what do you think of your house?”

“This is mine?” Harry asked looking around.

“Yes, it’s yours. This house belonged to your grandparents, James’s parents. They used to spend summers here. I remember visiting your dad here during holidays from Hogwarts.” He handed the cup of tea to Harry. “Your grandmother made the most wonderful muffins. When all four of us were here, she would make two dozen for breakfast so we each could have four of our own.”

Harry smiled at the thought of his grandmother making muffins in this kitchen. He wished he knew what she looked like.

Lupin continued, “Your parents were married here actually. It was a small private service outside in the garden, over by that arbor. When Voldemort began taking control your grandparents moved out here for good. Your grandmother said she really liked the peace. She was quite a lady, your grandmother, formidable and smart. She really doted on your dad though. Your uncle died when he was just out of Hogwarts, killed by Death Eaters. Your dad must have been about fifteen. Your dad took it hard, and your grandmother tried everything to bring him out of it. Your mom was the one who finally did the trick. But in the meantime, your grandma tried everything. James wanted for nothing after Richard died.”

Harry looked at Lupin, another new fact about his family surfaced, “I didn’t know my dad had a brother.”

Lupin looked surprised, “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. Yes, your dad had a brother about four years older than him, Richard was his name. He was killed when he was about nineteen or twenty by Death Eaters. He was an Auror.

Harry digested that and then shaking his head he said, “I should have known that. He’s my uncle and I didn’t know he existed. Snape is my cousin, sort of anyway, and it would have been nice to know that as well. I know nothing about my own family.”

“I would try to forget that you’re related to Snape if I were you. He’s not a very close relation; you’re his stepmother’s great nephew. He’s not going to treat you any better if you point that out. He’ll probably hold you more in contempt then he does now. He’ll lose a lot of face at Hogwarts with his students if they found out.”

“But still, don’t you think I should know something about my family,” Harry spoke back to the first point.

“Yes, I do, and you’re here aren’t you? Make the most of it. There are still a lot of personal effects around here. I found out something from Dumbledore as well. When you turn seventeen, the rest of your estate and the personal belongings of your parents will be made available to you. I think they’re in a Gringotts vault.”

“I have more belongings?” Harry questioned.

“Oh yes, many. You are actually quite wealthy. You are descended from one of the oldest Wizarding families. And that bit about Snape’s mother being robbed of the estate is exaggerated. The old families always passed property from father to eldest son. It’s just the way it worked. Snape’s mother wouldn’t have gotten the estate anyway, she would have gotten a pension, which the court reinstated after your grandfather’s death.”

“Oh,” Harry said, not really understanding. He sipped on his tea, and lapsed into silence staring out of at the endless fields beyond.

After a few minutes, Lupin changed the subject, “So what are you going to do today? I thought I heard something about a bicycle race.”

Harry smiled, “Yes, Hermione and I are going race to see who has to do the dishes for a week.”

Lupin smiled back at him, “You do realized that before the end of the day there will be ten Aurors, three Grangers, three Weasleys, and you and I staying here full time, eighteen people in total, eating three meals a day, plus snacks. You better pedal darn fast, Harry.”

Harry raised his eyebrow in surprise, that was a lot of dishes, “I never thought of that,” Harry admitted. “Where are all these people staying anyway? I didn’t see anyone coming down.”

“Molly Weasley is coming in this afternoon with Ron and Ginny. Ron will be bunking in with you, and Ginny will be staying with Hermione. The house has four bedrooms, so Molly will be taking one and the Grangers the other. This house has an old cellar below the kitchen here. The Aurors and I have made that into what we’ve called a war room. You want to go see?”

“Sure,” Harry answered curiously.

Lupin walked over a blank wall and said, “Alohomora.” Out of nowhere a door appeared and opened. Lupin led Harry down a set of old wooden steps leading down in a completely dark space. Once at the bottom of the steps, Lupin turned to his left and said, “Alohomora,” again in the blackness. Another door opened up revealing a large well lit room.

Harry and Lupin walked into to the space. It was roughly the size of an old cellar, but the similarity ended there. There was a large fireplace on the far wall putting off significant amounts of light. There were torches situated on the walls one about every meter. The floor was covered with a rich throw rug. The center of the room had a large table, with chairs surrounding it. There were a number of candles floating in the air right above the table, like at Hogwarts. There were blackboards on the wall, each covered with random drawings and thoughts.

A couple of the Auror guards were at the table playing wizard chess. They both looked up when Lupin and Harry entered. They both stood up, the taller man, the one that Harry knew as Davis, looked at Lupin and asked, “Is everything all right, Lupin?”

“Yes, everything is fine Davis. I was just showing Harry the house, he was wondering where everyone was.”

The man called Strom smiled at Harry and said, “We’re down here. We’re been instructed to say out of sight as much as possible, but we’re here if you need us.”

“Thanks,” Harry replied. He glanced around the room. There was nowhere to sleep. “Are you staying here full time?”

Davis answered, “Yes we are. We cannot Apparate in or out of the house. We are in bunks just off this room. We sleep in shifts so that there are at least three of us on duty at all times. Smith is out on rounds.”

“Rounds?” Harry asked blankly.

Lupin answered, “He’s walking around the property looking for anything suspicious.”

“Are you expecting an attack?” Harry asked Lupin.

“Actually, yes, we are. We’re planning on it. Eventually, the Death Eaters will figure out your location, and when they do, they’ll be coming for you. This fireplace,” Lupin said gesturing to the one on the far wall “is connected into the floo network, departure only. So we can leave in this fireplace, but no one can arrive. The house has an Anti-Muggle jinx similar to the ones used at the World Cup. There is an anti-Apparation shield around the house. There are spell trips around the house to tell us if anyone is coming.”

“Wow,” Harry commented, “you sure went to a lot of effort.”

“This house is as safe as we can make it. Both Dumbledore and I wanted you to have a vacation, some time to recover. You have a rough road ahead you Harry, but for the next few weeks at least you can have some peace and be a kid.”

Harry didn’t remotely feel like a kid anymore, but he appreciated the thought. They had obviously gone to a lot of work to set this up. “Thanks,” he murmured quietly.

“Let us know if you need anything Harry,” the man called Davis said. “Otherwise you won’t see much of us. Tonks is going to be your everyday guard. She’s the youngest of us, and should be the most fun.”

Harry smiled, that was true, Tonks was fun to be around.

“Come on, Harry,” Lupin said, “Let head back upstairs, you have to prepare of a race.”

Harry and Lupin went back upstairs to the kitchen and Lupin proceeded to make some scrambled eggs for both of them for breakfast. Harry and Lupin chatted about various topics before the rest of the household woke up for the day.

Hermione walked cheerfully into the kitchen right around 7:30. “So Harry,” she began looking excited, “when are we going to go exploring and do our race?”

Harry had to laugh, “I don’t know.” Harry glanced over at Lupin, “Can we go exploring?”

“Sure,” Lupin replied, smiling, “just as long as you take Tonks along. Your parents and I, Hermione, have made up a cover story that should enable to go around town like normal Muggle kids. We have also put together escape routes, and contingency plans for a Death Eater attack.”

“A cover story?” Hermione asked, “Why do we need a cover story?”

“So as not to attract attention,” Lupin replied.

“What is it?” Harry asked.

“For the time that you spend in Wales, consider yourselves first cousins. Harry, for the time being, call Hermione’s parents aunt and uncle. If anyone asks, Harry, tell them that you and your parents were in a car accident a few weeks ago, and your parents died in the accident. You are staying with your aunt and uncle now.

“That’s seems a bit complicated and dramatic,” Hermione commented frowning, “why does it need to be so elaborate? Why can’t Harry just be taking a vacation trip with his friend? And why do we need to say that Harry was in the car accident?”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, “Why do I need to say that I was in a car accident?”

“Harry, have you looked in a mirror lately?” Lupin asked.

Harry thought about it and drew a blank, “No, I don’t think so.”

Hermione nodded in a dawning comprehension, “I see what you mean now, Professor. We need some way to explain away Harry’s appearance.”

“I look that bad?” Harry asked, looking between them.

“Just go look Harry. There is a mirror in the front hall,” Lupin remarked.

Harry left the kitchen and made his way toward what he thought was the front door. Near the upstairs staircase was a foyer, and in the foyer was a mirror on the wall above a small table holding a vase of flowers.

Harry looked at himself in the mirror and was truly surprised. The most dominate feature on his face was his scar. The bleeding from the previous night was gone, but it had scabbed over, creating an angry looking red mark in the center of his forehead.

Harry returned to the kitchen where Hermione was pulling out some eggs to make for breakfast. Harry said to them, “Okay, I see your point. It would good to be able to explain away my scar. And a car accident makes sense. That’s where I thought I got the scar in the first place.”

Lupin replied, “It’s not just the scar. If it was, we could say that you walked into a bookcase or something of the like. You’re pale, you still look tired and quite frankly you have a haunted look about you that people will notice. The cover story needed to explain away your troubles in a simple way. A car accident and the recent loss of your parents would explain everything. And I doubt that anyone will ask anymore questions beyond that.”

“I understand now,” Hermione stated solemnly. “So, I’m trying to make my cousin feel better by distracting him with all kinds of fun activities.”

“Right,” Lupin answered, “And if it works and Harry has a good time that’s great, but if it doesn’t and Harry walks around looking miserable, then people will understand. It’s not really too far from the truth. He has just experienced a loss and his parents are dead. The two events aren’t related, but it will work for the people you meet in passing.”

Harry didn’t say anything. He hadn’t realized that he had a haunted look, but Lupin was right, he did just experience a loss, and his parents were dead. So letting people assume that his parents just died was reasonable.

Hermione answered Lupin, “So when can we start? I’m looking forward to getting into the town and looking around at all the shops, and finding the center where you rent the bicycles.” Hermione’s excitement was contagious and Harry couldn’t help but feel excited too.

“You need to wait for Tonks and get permission your parents. Then by all means, take a look around the town. For reference, the locals call this place the Old West Farmhouse in the Meadow. They were pretty happy to see if restored. They’ll be happy to know that we’re staying for the summer.”

A couple of hours later, with Hermione’s dad and Tonks in tow, Harry and Hermione walked the three miles in the town of Builth Wells. It took about an hour, which after the first half an hour passed in almost complete silence. All of them seemed to be effected in their own way with the beautiful surroundings.

For Harry, the walk brought a sense of peace that he hadn’t felt in a long time. Hermione and her dad also seemed equally relaxed; her dad put his arm around her and gave her a hug, which Hermione snuggled into for a moment. Tonks’ usually puppy like exuberance was toned down into a calm excitement.

The arrived into town and walked up the main street. It was a picturesque setting. The main shopping area on Market Street was a row of three story buildings lined up on either side of a narrow road. The shops ran for about four blocks until they came to a square of sorts that looked an old trading center. The turned down a side road and walked until they came to a river. There was a beautiful old bridge, with six stone arches crossing the river. They marveled at the bridge and decided instead to go to the Art Center, which was nearby.

Upon entering the building they were pleasantly surprised to find that the little town had a cinema, with two screens. They toured the building and saw many other works of art. The wandered past a sculpture from a local artist, the coat of arms for the city, and murals representing famous artists, like Shakespeare, and Beethoven.

They grabbed some information about the town from the visitor’s desk and then realized it was past lunchtime. They walked back toward the town square and found a little café called the Fontanna. They sat down and had a nice lunch. The café had an overlook of the surrounding countryside, and the lunch was quite pleasant.

After lunch they found the place where they could rent bicycles. They rented four and then decided to head back to the Farmhouse for the evening. Ron and his family were due in the late afternoon and they wanted to be there when he arrived. They all rode the bicycles and the return trip was much speedier.

They reached the farmhouse around four and Harry was exhausted. He couldn’t remember a time when he felt more tired. The last several minutes of the ride, his thigh was getting painful, reminding him of his most recent injuries. The rest of the party all seemed tired and relaxed, none of them was as wiped out as Harry.

Mrs. Granger came out to welcome them home and as soon as she looked at Harry, her gaze changed to one of concern. “Harry,” she asked, walking quickly over to him, “are you okay?”

Harry nodded, “I’m just tired.”

She looked at him skeptically.

“All right,” Harry amended, “I’m really tired. In fact, I think I’ll go have a rest before dinner.”

“That sounds like a good idea,” Mrs. Granger stated matter of factly. “I’m going to have to give you at least a half of dose of the dreamless sleep potion though if you want to rest.”

“That’s a good idea,” Harry conceded, “I don’t want a repeat of last night.” He rubbed his scar absentmindedly.

Harry got off the bicycle and parked it in the garage. His leg was more painful now that he got off the bike, and he limped over to the porch. He sat down on the front steps and tried to rub the stiffness out of the leg, but it didn’t seem to help.

“Do you want some pain medicine too?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“Not the Morphine,” Harry said, “I’ll be too out of it when Ron comes.”

“I’ve got some other medicines that aren’t so strong. Maybe some of those and a bit of the dreamless sleep potion?”

“Sure,” Harry said, pushing his way back to his feet.

Tonks came over to him and pulled his arm over her shoulder. “Let me help you out, Harry. I’m supposed to be your personal bodyguard, and all I’ve done so far is eat lunch and go for a bicycle ride. I feel like I need to something more.”

Harry allowed Tonks to help him into his room. Mrs. Granger brought Harry his potion and medicine and helped him get comfortable. But Harry was so tired that as soon as his head hit the pillow, he was comfortable enough to fall into a deep restful sleep.

Ron woke up Harry a couple of hours later, “Hey mate!”

Harry looked up groggily at his friend, “Hey, Ron. It’s good to see you.”

Mrs. Weasley came over to his bed, “Ah Harry, dear. You are looking much better.”

Harry answered, “I’m feeling better too, I just got overtired today, first day of vacation, you know.”

She smiled, “Yes, I do remember my summer holidays from Hogwarts. You have to do a lot of living in a short time. Supper downstairs is waiting for us. Do you feel up to it?”

Harry actually didn’t. He wasn’t hungry and he was so warm and comfortable that he didn’t really want to move. He didn’t answer right away.

Mrs. Weasley understood and said, “I wasn’t sure you would want to eat, but I thought we should check. Go back to sleep Harry dear. There will be plenty of time for holidaymaking. Drink up the rest of your potion.”

Harry drank and drifted off again into the peace of dreamless sleep.

The next weeks were some of the best of Harry’s entire life. The Dursley’s had never taken Harry on a holiday before, they preferred to stay at home, or send Harry to Mrs. Figg’s house. Harry guard was true to their word. If Lupin hadn’t shown Harry the guard station in the cellar, Harry wouldn’t have known they were there.

Harry days were spent riding bicycles on the country roads around the farmhouse, hiking through the rugged countryside, spending time in the village, and just hanging out at the farmhouse with his best friends. The days were long, lazy, and relaxing. Nearly everyday, Ron, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and Tonks would get some physical activity, either by biking, hiking, walking, or swimming. The exercise was doing Harry a world of good. His body which was so battered after the attack at Privet Drive was starting to feel like his own again. His limp went away entirely after about a week.

His emotional state was also improving. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger both been able to get him to open up about Sirius and share some of the pain. The hurt was still there, they both said it would never go away, but someday it would be better. Some days were better. There were days that he didn’t think about Sirius at all. Some days were worse. There were days that he couldn’t help but obsess about Sirius all day long.

Mr. Weasley came up for about a week in the middle of their stay at the farmhouse. He took Harry and Ron for a few outings by themselves without the girls. The outings weren’t anything special, they went for a hiking in the countryside one day, and once they went fishing at the river near town. During one of the outings Mr. Weasley was just discussing his life.

“You know, I still can’t get over the fact that Ginny was a girl,” he told them when they were fishing. “There has never been a Weasley girl born in our family in generations.”

“Yeah, Dad, we know,” Ron answered dryly.

“We didn’t even have a girl’s name picked out. It took us a couple of days to name her. We both just assumed that she’d be a boy. I always thought that she would be the seventh son. But I guess it wasn’t meant to be.”

“What the significant of a seventh son?” Harry asked.

“You don’t know?” Ron replied surprised.

“No,” Harry answered, “should I?”

“Well, if you grew up in a magic household you probably would have. The seventh son of a seventh son is supposed to have exceptional magic power, including clairvoyants, and healing abilities,” Ron replied.

“But you aren’t a seventh son are you?” Harry questioned Mr. Weasley.

He smiled, “No, I’m not. But my grandfather was the seventh son of the seventh son. And he did have exceptional magic power. My family has been producing seventh sons for generations. My father decided against it. I only have one brother.”

“Aren’t you happy with Ginny?” Harry asked.

“Happy?” Mr. Weasley said confused, “I was ecstatic to have a little girl. I just didn’t think it was possible.” He chuckled, “But it did make Ron’s life a bit tougher I think.” He clapped hand on Ron’s shoulder.

“No,” Ron said, “I’m glad she wasn’t another boy. Five brothers are enough.”

Harry laughed, “Any brother would be good by me. Five is better than none.”

“My thoughts exactly. Besides, it looks like I got my seventh boy after all.” Mr. Weasley said, clapping Harry on the back. “It doesn’t seem like the fish are going to bite, come on boys, let’s head back.”

One week blended into two and two into three. There was no Death Eater activity anywhere. Lupin had been keeping track of Ministry intelligence, and they didn’t have anything new. Lupin said the Ministry was getting nervous.

“They think another attack is on the horizon,” Lupin began on night during the third week of their stay. Everyone had moved out into the garden after supper. “The Ministry is fairly confident that our location is still secure. Our cover story is still intact in the town and the Minister let it leak to the Daily Prophet that Harry is spending time aboard this summer. They think we’re safe out here. They do believe another attack in imminent. The question is where. No one, not even Dumbledore can make a good guess on their alternate motives.”

Harry was lying on the ground staring up into the clear cloudless sky. He remembered as a child not even being able to see the stars, and now he could find and plot all the heavenly bodies on a star chart. He looked around at the group. Hermione and Ron were chatting by themselves over at the other side of the garden. Ginny was sitting in a chair, staring off into space.

Harry caught her eyes, and nodded to Ron and Hermione over on the other side of the lawn. Ginny smiled back at him and pulled something that looked sinister out of her pocket. She walked over to Harry and showed him a packet of firecrackers that Harry had never seen before.

“Fred and George gave these to me,” She said showing him the package. “They wanted me to do some market research.” She smiled mischievously at her brother and Hermione. “Shall we?”

Harry sniggered, “All right then.”

Ginny lit the firecracker with her wand and threw it hard in the general direction of Ron and Hermione. “I’d duck if I were you,” she hissed at Harry.

Harry and Ginny both fell instantly to the ground and watched the glowing device reach its target. It exploded in a low boom which shook the whole house. It then glowed brightly and morphed into a large head. The head stuck it’s tongue out at Ron and Hermione and then proceeded to call them in a voice that sounded very much like Mrs. Weasley’s, “You’re so poor that Gringotts doesn’t make a vault small enough for you.” The firecracker then fizzed out like a balloon popping with a high pitch whistle.

Harry and Ginny stood up and looked around at the started group. Ron and Hermione were clearly startled, but Hermione was laughing, Ron was looking furious. The adults started laughing as well after determining the source of the ruckus and went back to their conversation.

Harry and Ginny joined Ron and Hermione over at the far side of the garden. Hermione was still laughing, Harry and Ginny joined in. Ron was still looking furious.

“What the hell was that?” Ron asked Ginny angrily.

“Er…” Ginny fumbled with the package getting it back out of her pocket. “Instant Insulting Incendiary, Fred and George asked me to try it out. It dishes out insults with a real bang,” she said reading the package. She handed it over to Ron. “They’ll be happy to know it works.”

Ron took it and lit another one and threw it up in the air. This one glowed blue instead of white and said, “You were such an ugly baby, your parents tied a steak on your neck so that the dog would play with you.”

Ron started laughing now. “That is pretty funny. We should get a supply before we go back to school. Malfoy would love it don’t you think.”

“Speaking of that,” Hermione began, “I wonder if we’re going to Diagon Alley this year. School starts in three weeks. We haven’t gotten any of our letters or anything. We don’t know how we did on our OWLs yet.”

“Those of us who want to know,” Ron stated flatly. “At least I’ve probably done better than Fred and George did. Mum was so angry with them after they got their report.”

“That doesn’t take much,” Ginny commented smiling. “I’ll ask Mum tomorrow if we’re going to make a trip to Diagon Alley this year. We probably will be.”

But Ginny’s conversation didn’t produce any information. Mrs. Weasley was being very elusive on the subject. All Ginny could get was that the letters would come soon and that they would deal with it then.

Harry was pretty sure that even if everyone else got to go to Diagon Alley, he wouldn’t be allowed to go. There was no way that his guard would be able to protect him in such a public wizard setting. Harry also figured that he would no longer be allowed Hogsmead visits either. The guardian who signed his permission was now dead, and there would be no way that his guard would be able to protect him in such a public place. At Harry insistence, the four teenagers started spending more time in town. Harry figured it would be the only time he would able to wander freely in public for a very long time.

They walked into a pub one afternoon for a late lunch and the woman at the bar gasped as they entered. She hurried over to them and looked up and down at Harry. She said shocked, “Oh my word, the dead are walking. You look exactly like a young man who I used to know. His folks used to live here years back.”

Harry smiled at her, but his stomach took a turn. He was supposed to be staying incognito.

She continued, “You look just like young James Potter. It’s uncanny. Jim, come here.”

A man with grizzle grey hair wearing an apron came around to the front of the bar. He looked at Harry and said, “Blimey, you’re right Marie. He is a dead ringer for Jamie. Poor lad.”

“Jamie?” Harry said and chuckled.

The woman pressed, “Did you know James Potter?”

Harry sighed and then admitted, “Well, he was my dad.”

“You poor lad, he’s been dead for years. How old were you when he died then?” She asked.

Harry glanced between Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Tonks and then decided on the actual truth, instead of the cover story. “I was one when he died. I don’t really remember him at all. Everyone says I look like him though.”

“You do,” the man behind the bar said, “it’s the resemblance is uncanny. He used to come in here a lot when he was home from school during the summer holidays. His parents owned an old farmhouse outside of town. Queer folk they were, but James was all right. Friendly and outgoing he was. Your grandparents, lad, never came to town. They kept to themselves, very private. Your dad came in here almost every day in the summer. We were sure sorry to hear that he died.”

The woman ushered them all into a booth. “What’s your name then lad?”

“Harry,” Harry replied looking sheepish. “Harry Potter.”

“Who are these folks?” She asked looking at the group of them.

“My friends, Hermione, Ron, Ginny, and Tonks,” he said pointing to each in turn.

“Tonks?” the woman asked, “What kind of name is that?”

“My last name,” Tonks said brightly, “my mother named me Nymphadora. I don’t know what she was thinking.”

The woman laughed a warm hearty laugh. “My name is Marie, Marie Jones. My husband Jim and I have run this pub for nearly forty years and I have never met anyone named Nymphadora, so you’re the first. What’ll you have kids?”

They ordered some lunch fare, fish and chips, and some sodas. Marie served them herself and after they were done, she sat down with them and talked. They spend a couple of hours in animated discussion. Marie was grandmotherly and cheerful. Harry couldn’t help but like her. She chatted on about Harry’s dad as though he had been in the pub yesterday instead of twenty years ago.

Harry was sorry when it was time to head back to the farmhouse, but Tonks was insisting. It was getting late and the evening crowd was beginning to arrive at the pub.

“I’ll be back,” Harry said to Marie on their way out. “Thanks for talking.”

“Anytime lad, anytime,” she said winking and smiling.

Harry came back almost every day after that. Marie and Jim were always happy to sit and chat with him about anything and everything. They talked about Harry’s dad, the weather, the state of the roads, the current policies that the Prime Minister was implementing, and anything else that came to mind. Harry asked them all about his dad. They obliged him, and gave him all of their impressions of James, even some that weren’t particularly flattering.

Harry ate it up. He finally had a third party source of information about his dad. There stories combined with the photo albums and personal belongs he dug up from the house had increased his knowledge of his family greatly. His father was a good man, a bit self centered, Marie admitted, but he seemed to be a goodly type of person, as she put it.

Somewhere in the next week they all received their OWLs at the farmhouse. Hermione had of course gotten all O’s. Harry and Ron didn’t fare too badly. Harry had gotten O’s in Defense against the Dark Arts, Transfiguration, Charms, Care of Magical Creatures and to his own disbelief, Divination. He pulled E’s in Potions, and Astronomy, apparently his written test had pulled up his marks in Astronomy. His History of Magic grade was bad, but Harry wasn’t expecting much there. Ron’s marks were fairly good, he got O in the same subjects as Harry, except Divination where he got a E. Ron didn’t get anything worse than and E, which was better than Harry. Ron’s grades were overshadowed by the fact that Ginny was made a Griffindore prefect. Mrs. Weasley was preparing a celebration for her and didn’t fuss much over Ron’s marks.

What was more interesting to Harry was his class list. Although Professor McGonagall had assured him he needed an O in potions to study at the NEWT level, Advanced Potions was on his course list. The books listed, however, didn’t match the ones that Hermione was requested to have for her Advanced Potions class. Harry was also signed up for classes that he never realized existed. He had three different Defense Against the Dark Arts classes. Ron and Hermione only had one. Harry also had Charms, and Transfiguration. He had elected to drop Divination, but that was still on his course list. Care of Magical Creatures was there as well. Harry had more classes now than Hermione.

He mentioned that to her and she looked miffed by it. “I don’t see why you get to take special classes, and we don’t get to,” she sulked to him.

“Speak for yourself,” Ron replied. Ron’s marks were unfortunate in one way; he didn’t get an O in Potions, which meant that he couldn’t take the NEWT level Potions course, which meant that he wouldn’t have the course work for Auror training. Ron was disappointed, but not devastated. He didn’t really want to continue potions anyway, he thought that one he got back to school, he would be able to find some other career path that would suit him just as well.

Harry mentioned his puzzling course list to Lupin later that day. Lupin didn’t seem surprised by Harry’s course load at all. In fact he seemed pleased.

“Ah good,” he said to Harry, “yes, you are taking a lot more classes this term then the typical sixth year student. You, unlike your fellows, are not preparing for the NEWT exams next year. You are fighting for your life. To that end, Dumbledore and I set up a course list for you with your future in mind. Your Charms, Transfiguration, Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and the first Defense against the Dark Arts classes are with your regular professors. The potions course you are taking is with Dumbledore. He will met with you everyday, first lesson of the day. The second Defense course will be an extra course with your Defense professor, three times a week over your lunch hour. The third Defense course will be with me, everyday before breakfast.

“With you? How is that possible? How will that work?” Harry asked confused.

“The Ministry is placing a guard station at the entrance to the Hogwarts grounds. I still need to get a hold of you on a fairly recent basis once you get to school, so I will live there. They are making special arrangements for my condition. Professor Snape will again be providing the Wolfsbane potion and as an extra precaution, I will be going to the Shrieking Shack again.

“What are you going to teach me?” Harry asked.

Lupin smiled a devious sort of smile that Harry had never seen before, “Well, Harry, I do know how to do some magic that isn’t really appropriate to be taught at school, especially at your age. Things like Animagous transformations, and Apparating. I have a whole host of things that I am going to teach you, off of school grounds, on your own time. Do you understand me?”

Harry smiled, the prospect of learning how to Apparate or transform into an animal was intriguing. “Yes, sir, I understand. I suppose you will be teaching me all the things my dad would have taught me himself had he lived?”

Lupin’s regular smile was back, “Exactly. But this will only work if you come down to see me in the morning before breakfast, otherwise there will be too many awkward questions. And once you get back to school you really have to lay low. Mafloy will be watching every move you make and reporting back to Voldemort.”

“I understand,” Harry smiled. “Should be fun.”

“I hope so,” Lupin said, “Although I’ll be teaching you advanced magic, so it will be quite draining. You might want to get to bed early.”

Harry laughed, he did head to bed early that night. The others were headed to Diagon Alley the next day early and Harry wanted to be up with them to wish them a good time. Harry wasn’t going, Lupin had insisted, and Harry actually agreed with him. Harry was going to spend the day in the pub helping out Marie and Jim. Lupin had given him the okay to stay there all day by himself. Harry was really looking forward to it.

He wished his friend well in the morning and while they headed off in the fireplace to Diagon Alley, Harry headed into town on a bicycle, carrying in tow, one of the Granger’s cell phones. Lupin had the other and he told Harry to call if anything went awry.

Harry never had such a nice day in his life. Marie and Jim were wonderful to him, treating him as if he were one of their long lost grandchildren. Harry mostly washed dishes and buses tables. It felt good to be a part of something, it felt good to be with people who had no idea who he was or what he had to do, it felt good to be a regular Muggle kid again for just one day.

He arrived back to the farmhouse, tired in a good way. His friends arrived back as well and they chatted on and on about their day, they people they saw and the places they went. Harry found that he was really happy that he hadn’t gone to Diagon Alley. If he had gone, his friend would have been guarded closely, and they would have been waiting for Death Eaters to jump out at any moment. This was a day they all got to take off. Harry felt like all of them now had finally had a vacation.

The summer was finally winding down. There were only two weeks left of the summer and there were a lot of things to take care before everyone headed off to school. For one, Harry need to get back and see his doctor in Surrey before term started or the Grangers would be some legal trouble. For two, Harry knew that he would have to see his aunt and uncle before he left again.

Lupin had kept track of them discreetly for Harry. They were both doing much better. Vernon had made almost a full recovery. The doctors said that he was such a cankerous person that he was too mean to die. Aunt Petunia was home with Dudley, her mental state was shaky. She was taking many medications for anxiety and depression, but her outlook was good.

Harry found out the hard way that he was not returning to school on the Hogwarts express. Hermione was reading the Daily Prophet one morning during breakfast. All of a sudden, she choked on her toast. She handed Harry the paper and showed him an article. There was a picture of him from fourth year from the tri-wizard tournament.

“Boy-Who-Lived Returning to School”

The Daily Prophet has learned from Albus Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardly that Harry Potter will not be returning to Hogwarts on the Hogwarts Express. Harry Potter has been the target of several Death Eater attacks this summer. He is currently being guarded in an unknown location, most likely abroad. Potter will be brought back to Hogwarts using an undisclosed means before the start of term.

Parents should be aware that the absence of Potter on the train will greatly reduce the chances of a Death Eater attack on the Hogwarts Express. Dumbledore insists that the train is the safest way for the students to travel to school. But neither he, nor the Ministry of Magic can guarantee the train’s safety. If parents have any concerns related to the start of term, letters can be sent to Dumbledore or Deputy Headmistress Minerva McGonagall.


Harry read the article twice and had begun to fume. Why hadn’t anyone mentioned this to him? He walked over and handed the paper to Lupin who talking with Tonks in the kitchen. “I don’t suppose one of you was going to tell me about this?” he asked in a causal tone, but it didn’t hide his anger.

Lupin read the article quickly and said, “Oh, Harry, I’m sorry. It completely slipped my mind. Dumbledore and I made these plans weeks ago. I just forgot to tell you.”

“So where exactly am I supposed to be? And how exactly am I going to get to Hogwarts?” Harry questioned angrily. He was mad for two reasons, the first being that they forgot to tell him; the second was that he really enjoyed the train ride. It was part of the whole school experience.

“You are rumored to be in Bulgaria, laying low with Victor Krum,” Tonks answered cheerfully.

“I’m laying low with an internationally famous Quidditch player? That makes sense,” Harry commented sardonically.

“Well,” Lupin answered crisply in a no nonsense professor tone he used occasionally with students in class, “we’ve been feeding the Daily Prophet rumors about your whereabouts all summer. Victor Krum may not be the logical choice, but he is the only wizard you know personally who lives abroad. Besides, it’s just a rumor. The idea was that it would send the people looking for you in the wrong direction.”

“But why can’t I ride the Hogwarts express?” Harry asked, changing his tactic.

“It’s too dangerous for everyone involved,” Lupin answered in the same no nonsense tone. “Can’t you see that? The train runs for several hundred kilometers along a well known route. Death Eaters could stop the train at any point between King’s Cross and Hogwarts.”

“But can’t the Aurors guard me on the train like they guard me here?”

“They can, and some of them actually will be on the train anyway. The Aurors are concerned about the safety of every student, not just you. The best way to keep all your fellow students safe is for you not to be there.”

“But,” Harry said and then dropped off. The situation was out of his control and final. His desire to hang out with his friends on the Hogwarts Express was nothing compared to their safety.

Lupin continued, “We’ll either set up a Portkey for you or you’ll go by Floo Powder. Dumbledore may have something else up his sleeve though. He’s working out the details, I don’t even know them. All I know is that you will get to Hogwarts before the start of term.”

Harry was still angry, but he did see Lupin’s point. “I just wish you would have told me,” Harry stated more calmly.

“For that, I am sorry, Harry,” Lupin said soothingly. “It just slipped my mind. Since we haven’t discussed our plans for the last weeks of summer yet, it hadn’t come up. But now it has. You have a doctor’s appointment with Dr. Hanne on August 31st. Before you leave here, you’ll need to have all your school stuff packed up. Hermione has agreed to put your trunk and Hedwig on the train for you. We’ll travel back to Little Whinging on the 30th, and you’ll stay with your aunt at Privet Drive. She knows you’re coming for a couple of days.”

“That sounds fine,” Harry admitted. Going back to Privet Drive was a really crappy way to end the summer, but, like he said, it was only for a couple of days.

Harry’s mood was tarnished that morning and it didn’t improve as the day wore on. He was gradually getting a nasty headache. It started as a dull ache, but by supper it had blown into something really painful. He asked Mrs. Granger for some pain medicine. She looked concerned and decided to check his temperature, blood pressure, and his new scars to make sure nothing looked wrong.

“Everything checks out kiddo,” she said to him after completing her checks, still looking concerned. “Are you sure that it’s just a headache?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” Harry said trying not to act to exasperated.

“Well, here some acetaminophen, that should help,” she said handing him the pills.

“No,” Harry protested, holding his temples with one hand and handing the pills back with the other. “I need the strong stuff. The stuff they gave me at the hospital.”

“It’s that bad?” She said looking even more concerned. “I’m getting Molly, Harry. I don’t think this is normal. Something is not right.”

Mrs. Granger returned a minute later to Harry’s bedroom with Mrs. Weasley in tow. “Harry dear,” she asked, “can you tell me what’s wrong?”

Harry wanted to scream at them both in frustration, but instead he said, “I just have a really bad headache and want some pain medicine.” He looked back at Mrs. Granger, “Would you please give me the morphine, or whatever it was they sent home with me.”

Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger exchanged worried looks. They started a rapid fire discussion about Harry.

Mrs. Granger said, “He’s asking for the same pain meds that they gave him after surgery.”

Mrs. Weasley answered, “He must be in a lot of pain then.”

“But why? What could cause such a painful headache?” Mrs. Granger asked.

“What are you thinking, another mental attack?” Mrs. Weasley replied, becoming more concerned.

“Maybe, can they happen when he’s awake?”

“I don’t know.”

“I don’t know either.”

Harry snapped, “Would you just give me something for the pain, please?” He held his head with both hands and started rocking back and forth.

Mrs. Granger said quickly, “I’m getting Remus.”

Mrs. Weasley put her hands on Harry shoulders and said, “Shh, Harry dear, it’s going to be all right. We’re going to get you some help, but if You-Know-Who is attacking your mind, then giving you something to stop the pain make it easier for him. We’re not going to let him hurt you. Dumbledore warned us that this might happen.”

“Did he tell you what to do about it?” Harry asked wincing.

“Yes, but I can’t do it. It’s complicated magic. He was teaching Remus how to do it. Here he is now.”

Lupin knelt down in front of Harry and said, “Harry, I need to see if Voldemort is trying to attack your mind. Try to relax; I’m going to use the Legilimens charm to enter your mind.”

“Whatever,” Harry said irritated, “just make it stop.”

“Legilimens,” Lupin stated softly.

Harry felt the flashes of his thoughts coming to the front of his mind, and without even thinking; he immediately threw up the lake scene and pushed Lupin out hard. Lupin lost his balance as if he had been physically struck and almost fell over.

“Harry,” Lupin said soothingly, “you have to let me in, I need to know what is causing the pain.”

“Sorry,” Harry stated flatly. He took a deep breath and tried to relax. “Okay, try again.”

Lupin once again entered Harry mind and with great effort Harry restrained himself from pushing him out. Unlike his other experiences with people entering his mind, Lupin’s presence was soothing and not invasive. He wasn’t looking at memories; Lupin seemed to be trying to experience Harry’s current mental state. Harry’s mind swam and his head throbbed as Lupin poked around. Lupin worked his way around Harry’s thoughts until a vision hit. It was Voldemort laughing ecstatically. Harry heard his voice ringing through his head, “You can never escape me, boy.” Harry watched painfully as he saw the farmhouse from outside. He looked to both sides and there were people in Death Eaters masks covering the lawn.

Lupin fell forward holding his head and left Harry’s mind as the vision faded away. Mrs. Weasley pulled him back to a sitting position. “Remus, are you all right?”

“Yes, Molly, Voldemort is in Harry’s brain. Harry’s under attack again.”

Just then, Tonks flew into the room, “Remus, the proximity sensors have been tripped. Johnson hasn’t returned from his rounds, this could be serious.”

Lupin stood up quickly, and pulled Harry into a standing position. “I need you two to round up the kids and get them into the basement,” he said sharply to Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger. “I’ll get Harry down there now. Tonks, come with me.”

Harry’s head was so painful, it pounded horribly with every heart beat. It was preventing him from thinking straight. He dimly let Lupin and Tonks drag him from his bedroom to the front stairs. There was a Death Eater at the bottom of the stairs. The Death Eater was distracted and looking the other direction. He turned, saw them, and immediately shot off a spell, which went high and hit over their heads.

Lupin pulled Harry and Tonks down to the floor. Tonks from a crouch got a stunning spell off before quickly ducking back. The spell hit its mark and he dropped to the floor with a thud. Tonks moved stealthily down the steps, still in a crouch. From the bottom of the steps, gave them a curt little wave, without looking at them. Lupin then followed her down the steps, pulling Harry along with him.

While Harry and Lupin where still descending the staircase, Tonks shouted, “Stupefy,” and then there was the sound of smashing glass. They could hear screaming from elsewhere in the house. Lupin quickly stood up and pulled Harry into a standing position. He and Harry ran the rest of the way down the steps. At the bottom, they found Tonks surrounded by five Death Eaters, backed into a corner of the sitting room.

Lupin yelled “Stupefy.” The spell whizzed away and hit one the Death Eaters in the back. The Death Eater quickly fell with a soft thump onto the floor. The rest of the Death Eaters turned around as one and saw Lupin and Harry. Recognition dawned on them and then ignoring Tonks, they changed targets to Harry.

The first spell grazed Harry’s left arm as it passed. An emotion came through Harry’s debilitated brain, anger. They were trying to kill him, again. The adrenalin of battle hit and Harry was finally able to function through the pain. He and Lupin managed to block or avoid all the spells being sent their way. They then quickly sent off another round. They managed to take down one more Death Eater. They were preparing to block another round when some new spells whizzed down from above taking down the rest of the Death Eaters.

Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Mrs. Weasley, and both of Hermione’s parents were standing at the top of the staircase.

Lupin look up at them relived. “Great work, you guys. Come on down, we need to get you all safely to the basement. I doubt this is all of them. Tonks, you know what to do, get going, and you better be back in less than ten minutes.”

“Right boss,” she said, and quickly crossed the room and left out the door at a sprint.

“She’s going for help, if her training was paid off, she should be back in less than ten minutes with an entire squad of Aurors.” Lupin commented. “We need to get you all into the basement.”

They all met at the bottom of the steps and then walked into the kitchen. The kitchen was deserted. There were a series of light flashes of all different colors coming in the darkening house through the kitchen window. Ron walked over and glanced out the kitchen window, while Lupin opened the magic door.

“Whoa,” Ron said backing away quickly to join the group waiting at the door. “There has to be thirty Death Eaters out there. There only seems to be one or two people fighting them. They are going to be overrun. They need help!”

Almost before Ron got the words out of his mouth a spell shattered the glass in the kitchen window. He ducked back, but wasn’t quite quick enough. A spell came through the open window and grazed him. Ron stumbled and fell on to one hand. For a second he looked dazed, but he quickly bounced up, pulled out his wand and shot a spell out the window. He was going to do more, but Mrs. Weasley grabbed him by the arm and pulled him back to the now open staircase.

Ron was protesting and pulling against her trying to get back to the window, “Mum, they’re getting slaughtered out there. We can’t just leave them.”

“Yes, we can and we will. I’m not losing you Ronald,” Mrs. Weasley shot back at him with an iron grip on his skinny upper arm. She was literally dragging him away. With incredible strength she pushed him in front of her and pushed him onto the old wooden staircase.

Lupin was leading the way already close to the bottom, followed by Mrs. Granger, Hermione, Harry, Ginny, and then Mr. Granger. Ron was next still being pushed by his mother, who was behind him. The stairwell was entirely dark. Just as Lupin stepped onto the concrete floor, the stairwell was lit up by a green spell as it shot down the steps. The spell hit Mrs. Weasley, who was at the back of the group. She slumped to the side of the steps.

“Mum,” Ron yelled, leaning down to check on her.

Harry pushed his way in front of Ginny and Mr. Granger and shot a spell over Ron’s head. More spells rained down on them from the top of the steps. Ron stood up to face the attacker just in time to get hit with an oncoming spell. He fell backwards into Harry, who fell into Mr. Granger, who fell into Ginny, who fell into Hermione, who fell into Mrs. Granger until they all were lying in a pile at the bottom of the stairs.

Lupin, at the bottom, managed to escape the human pile. He was trying to block the spells coming at them, and was having some success.

Everyone else was fighting to free themselves from the human pile, but Ron was on top and he was unconscious. Harry wriggled out first and moved up a step to face the five Death Eaters descending the stairs. The Death Eaters started laughing at him. “You really think you can stop us. We’re going to win, Potter. You should come with us now, spare your friends any more pain.” They were slowly getting closer and closer to Mrs. Weasley who was lying dazed in the middle of the steps.

Harry acted before he thought. He used a shield charm to block the spells coming his way and darted up the stairs and grabbed Mrs. Weasley around the torso. Using a bear hug, he managed to heave Mrs. Weasley back down the steps away from the attackers. Harry dropped her unceremoniously at the bottom and quickly put up a shield charm again to block any new spells. Harry then noticed Lupin behind him and shooting spells up at them too.

“Harry,” Lupin whispered, “You keep up your shield, I’ll attack from behind you. Hermione’s getting the door.”

Harry kept focusing all his power on blocking all the spells raining down on them, while Lupin both attacked them and directed Hermione getting everyone to safety. Harry took a quick glance behind him, and Hermione had the door open. Her mother was pulling Mrs. Weasley in the room; her father had pulled Ron into a fireman’s carry and was moving quickly away from the fighting.

Ginny turned up beside Harry, and she started sending all kinds of bizarre spells their way. She then pulled out a pack of Fred and George’s Instant Insulting Incendiaries, lit them, and threw them up the stairs. Twenty balls of light appeared on all sides of the Death Eaters and started insulting them.

Lupin yelled, “Brilliant Ginny! Now, run. Get into the room.” over the din. Harry and Ginny took off at a sprint to the open door. They heard Lupin yell some spell Harry had never heard and the staircase exploded as if is it had been hit by a grenade.

The Death Eaters and a whole lot of debris went flying in every direction. The three of them ran hard for the door and entered first Harry, then Ginny, then Lupin who magically sealed it behind them. Once inside, he checked his watch.

Lupin turned to the Grangers who were standing by the fireplace, “If everything went right, Tonks should be back here in less than three minutes with a squad of Aurors. But in any case, we need to be ready to evacuate.”

“Right,” Hermione said quickly. She walked briskly over to the fireplace and said, “Incidenium.” A bright fire started to burn giving the room an eerie look.

Lupin stood by the door waiting. “Harry, check over Ron and Mrs. Weasley okay.”

“What?” Harry asked incredulously. “I don’t anything about first aid.”

“Right,” Lupin conceded, “you man the door. If anything gets through the door, stun it, and ask question later, understand?”

“Yeah,” Harry answered sharply and walked over to stand in front of the door.

Mr. and Mrs. Granger were checking over Ron and Mrs. Weasley. Mr. Granger spoke to Lupin first, “Ron is okay, I think. His breathing is good, heart rate strong, but he has some minor abrasions from the fall. You should probably check Molly.”

Mrs. Granger spoke up then, “Molly’s okay too, her breathing and heart rate are strong.”

Hermione chimed in, “Then someone should look at Ginny.” She was sitting next to Ginny with a comforting hand on her shoulder. Ginny was sitting down on the ground looking very pale. “She’s bleeding.”

Lupin made a bee line for her as did Mrs. Granger. Mrs. Granger looked at her back, where the bleeding was coming from. “Oh, honey,” she breathed surveying the injuries. She had several large pieces of wood in her back, a by product of Lupin’s explosion. The wounds didn’t seem deep or serious, there were just so many of them. They were oozing blood slowly.

Lupin looked at it in shock and said, “Oh, my.” He looked to Mrs. Granger, “I’m open to suggestions here. I know enough first aid to patch people up, but I’m not a healer. This goes beyond what I can do.”

“I don’t know what we can do, but I do know what we can’t do. Unless you can wave that wand of yours and remove all the wood and seal up the wounds at the same time, we can’t possibly take them all out here without the chance of her bleeding to death,” Mrs. Granger stated quickly.

“Please don’t,” Ginny said frightened. She started crying quietly.

“Sorry Ginny,” Mrs. Granger said in soft soothing tone, “that was an awful thing to say. You’re going to be okay.” She then addressed Lupin, “What it comes down to is that she needs to be seen by a doctor, or healer or whatever you call them. She needs to go to St. Mungo’s or a hospital.”

“Agreed,” Lupin nodded to her, “Ron and Molly should go too. The question is how to get them there. I have Floo Powder, but the person needs to be able to say the place they’re going for it to work.”

“What if one person held the other?” Hermione asked. “Would that work?”

“It should,” Lupin conceded, “I’ve never tried it.”

“It works,” Ginny said whimpering. “My Mum used to hold me all the time when I was little.”

“Well,” Mr. Granger put in, “it’s settled. I’ll take Ron, you can get Molly, dear,” he said addressing his wife, “and Hermione can take Ginny.”

“I’ll be okay to go myself,” Ginny said standing up.

“We can’t leave Harry and Professor Lupin here alone,” Hermione remarked curtly, “I should stay. I could help.”

“No,” Lupin said firmly. “We need someone magical to go to the hospital with Ginny, Molly, and Ron. As much as I respect your parents Hermione, they won’t be able to do much at St. Mungo’s. They need you worse than we do.”

Hermione looked for a moment as if she was going to say something else but she decided against it. “All right.” She turned to Ginny and said, “Let’s go, Gin. You first, I’ll be right behind you.”

Ginny grabbed the Floo powder, threw it into the fire, stepped in, and shouted, “St. Mungo’s Hospital” Hermione quickly followed suit. Lupin helped Mrs. Granger get Mrs. Weasley into the fire, and then they left. Mr. Granger struggled less with Ron, but Lupin still helped.

“Listen,” Mr. Granger said before he left, “That’s my boy over there. Please take good care of him.”

“I will,” Lupin said gravely. “I have sworn my life to protect him. If things go south, we’ll retreat to Grimmauld Place. I’m just hoping to avoid that. It’s not secure. Tonks should be back by now with fifty Aurors. If all goes well, we’ll have most the Death Eaters captured by the end of the night.”

“I hope so,” Mr. Granger agreed, “we’ll be in touch.” Then he shouted, “St. Mungo’s Hospital.”

That left Lupin and Harry in the room alone. Harry had stood vigilantly by the door, watching the proceedings and now that the adrenaline of the situation was fading, his head was hurting again. It seemed worse than it was before. All of a sudden a wave of something hit, and Harry fell to his knees. Lupin hurried over to him.

“Harry,” Lupin said sharply, “can you hear me? Are you all right?”

Harry didn’t answer at first; his head felt like it was exploding. He managed to say, “He’s really angry. Something isn’t going right. I’ve never felt him this angry before.”

Lupin pulled Harry back to his feet and set him in a chair. Harry sat back and winced.

“What is it?” Lupin asked again.

“My back,” Harry stated blankly as the pain in his head began to fade somewhat. “It hurts.”

Lupin glanced at his back, and sighed, “You got hit with the flying debris too. You just hadn’t noticed.”

“You too,” Harry indicated to the debris covering Lupin’s arm.

“I know. But it’s not serious, yours really isn’t either. You only have a couple of bad ones. Poor Ginny, her whole back was covered. We’ll get you fixed up as soon as we get out of this mess.”

Harry dropped his head and laid it on the table. It felt cool on his scar and somehow it made him feel better. “This is one huge mess, Professor. I don’t see how I’m going to make it out of this alive.” He looked mournfully through his haze of pain over at Lupin who was now guarding the door.

Lupin looked at him and then turned quickly away. “Damn it Harry, do you have any idea how much you look like your mother? Listen to me; you are going to live through this. But you have to fight, Harry. It’s the only way you’re going to make it. And I know you have it in you, Harry James Potter. If you have even half your father’s talent, you’ll be able to fulfill your destiny and live to tell your grandkids about it. But I need you here with me now.”

Harry thought of his father and then of his mother. Lupin was right, he needed to fight. He needed to be strong. He needed for his headache to go away. He got up and stood on the other side of the door from Lupin. “All right then, I’m here, Moony. Now what do you want me to do?”

Lupin laughed at the Moony reference, “Thank you, Prongs Jr. I want you ready for an attack. The next people who come through the door will either be Tonks and Aurors or twenty Death Eaters. And if it’s the latter, we need to be ready.”

To their great fortune, it was Tonks who arrived at the door just a few minutes later. She came through the door with a calm reserve that Harry had never seen before. She looked formidable. Underneath her bubbly exuberance was a very powerful witch. She addressed them both in a relived voice, “We got him. You-Know-Who was here and he’s in custody. The Aurors are taking him and about twenty Death Eaters back to Azkaban now.”

“You’re kidding,” Harry said in disbelief. “They actually captured Voldemort”

“Yes, I saw it for myself or I wouldn’t have believed it either. That is one scary guy. Those eyes are horrible,” she admitted, shuddering a bit.

“Then it’s over?” Harry asked tentatively to Lupin. “But this can’t be it.”

“I doubt it is,” Lupin said cautiously. “He might be captured, but this isn’t over yet.”

“Gees Remus, you’re a killjoy,” Tonks reprimanded. “Enjoy the moment.” She gave them both a quick look over and then said, “We should probably get both of you to a healer.”

The three of them left the cellar and went upstairs; using a ladder Tonks had conjured. The fighting was over, but there was still a remarkable amount of activity outside. The Aurors were holding the Death Eaters in an Anti-Apparition shield. There were healers on site now and they had set up a makeshift tent for the injured. At Tonk’s insistence, they went outside and made their way to the tent.

They entered the makeshift tent, which looked like a Muggle tent on the outside, but when they walked in, it looked like they were inside St. Mungo’s. They walked to a healer sitting at a small desk near the entrance of the then. He looked them over.

“Oh my,” the healer said, “Harry Potter.” He quickly recovered himself, and said to him, “Are you injured?”

“My back,” Harry said absently. The nice thing about being in Muggle care was that at a Muggle hospital he wasn’t the famous Harry Potter, he was just Harry Potter. He almost wished he was back in the hospital in Surrey.

The healer glanced at Harry’s back and then said, “That’s not too bad, Madam Viola can look after you, and she’s in the purple robes. Now what about you two?” he said looking at Tonks and Lupin.

“We’re with him,” Lupin said shortly.

They all walked over to a woman wearing violet robes and sat and waited till she was done with her other patient. Madam Viola looked at Harry and gasped. “Harry Potter,” she said in disbelief, “I can’t believe I’m meeting you in person.”

Lupin answered for Harry, “Hello, Madam Viola is it? Harry has had some injuries to his back and he needs them fixed up.”

“Who are you?”

“Remus Lupin.”

“Are you related to Harry?”

“No, I’m not. I’m just looking after him for the moment.”

“What about you?” she asked, addressing Tonks. “Are you related to him?”

“No,” Tonks said. “Why?”

“I can’t treat him without permission from his guardian, unless it’s a life threatening situation. I know his parents are dead, but doesn’t he live with an aunt or something? Can you get her permission so I can help him?”

“Is there anyway we could get around that?” Lupin asked hopefully.

“No, I could get in a lot of trouble. There is a magical contract that all healers sign with the Ministry. All wizards, under the age of seventeen, need to have a parent or guardian permission before treatment can begin. Contract violation has very bad consequences. Depending on the level of the breech, I could be fired from St. Mungo’s, or sprout boils from my hands.”

“So would anyone here be able to treat Harry without his aunt’s permission?” Lupin asked a note of desperation in his voice.

“No, no one could. They would in violation of their contract and the Ministry would take action against them. Especially in this case, with such a public figure. No one can afford to take the chance.”

“My aunt is hundreds of kilometers away in Surrey, so medicated she probably doesn’t even remember her last name. What do you want me to do? Pull them out myself?” Harry asked her exasperated.

“I’m really sorry Mr. Potter, I really would like to help you, but I can’t go against my contract. I could be fired. I need the job, I have three kids.”

“Okay, fine,” Harry answered angrily, “I’m just going to walk back to Surrey with wood pieces stuck in my back, find my aunt, have her sign a stupid permission slip, and walk back.” With that Harry turned away and walked out of the tent. Lupin and Tonks followed.

“Now what?” Tonks asked Lupin.

Albus Dumbledore walked toward them from the groups of people milling around the Anti-Apparation shield. “They won’t treat Harry right? I’ll take care of it,” he stated resolutely walking over to them. “Come on Harry.” They walked back into the tent.

Dumbledore talked quietly for several minutes with Madam Viola alone, and then waved Harry, Lupin and Tonks over. “She’s going to help you Harry. Thank you Madam Viola.”

Dumbledore waited with Lupin and Tonks while Madam Viola fixed Harry up. It took longer than he expected, and hurt a lot more too. But in an about an hour everything was done and she gave Harry a couple of potions to take the next day.

“It was nice meeting you Harry,” she said at the end. “I hope you won’t hold this against me. I need to feed my kids.”

“Thanks,” Harry said with politeness he didn’t feel, “It was nice meeting you too.”

With that they left the medical tent and watched as the last Death Eaters were carted away. It was a surreal scene. The end of the second war, Voldemort in custody, and Harry finally left go a breath he didn’t know he had been holding. He might live through this after all.

The farmhouse battle had left the Wizarding world decidedly split. Half the folks were celebrating in the streets again, the other half were not convinced that the war was over. The Ministry called everyone to be cautiously optimist until Voldemort and the Death Eaters were interrogated.

Harry didn’t know what to think. Lupin and Dumbledore had been markedly silent about the whole affair. He couldn’t get a straight answer out of either of them about whether or not the war was over. He was having trouble getting an answer out of either of them about where he was suppose to go for the rest of the summer.

Harry had remained at the farmhouse the night of the attack. The next day the house was crawling with reporters, Ministry officials, and random wizards who wanted to see the site for themselves. Harry milled around with Lupin mostly as he discussed the battle with the Ministry officials. Harry had been approached by every reporter that came. Lupin had told the reporters that Harry had been directed by Ministry to not make a statement. Harry took the point. Earlier in the summer, he had signed some Ministry documents which didn’t allow him to release confidential information. If he did, he would suffer three month of deafness. It didn’t seem worth it.

Later in the day, Rita Seeker showed up. She looked better than she did at their last meeting. She wandered over and pulled out her Quick Quotes Quill and tried to interview Harry.

Harry cut her off, “I’m not doing this again. You have caused me way too many problems.”

“Harry,” she said sweetly, “Hermione has let me off the hook, you should too. The world has changed Harry, and the public is demanding stories like the one I wrote for you in the Quibbler. I did you a big favor there.”

“You did it because Hermione made you do it. It had nothing to do with your good intentions.”

“I didn’t say that, I was just asking for an interview, your impression of the war, where you have been since the attack at your home, that kind of thing.”

Harry smiled ruefully at her. “I can’t even if I wanted to, I have been directed by the Ministry not to make a statement at this time.”

Rita smiled brightly. “Well if you won’t give me anything directly, at least that gives me something to look into. Oh and Harry, when did the scar on your forehead reopen?”

Harry looked surprised, the attack on the way to Builth Wells had opened the scar, but it had since healed over. Harry felt the scar and it had a fresh scab.

Lupin quickly walked over. “Harry has been directed by the Ministry not to make a statement. Please do not trouble him further. Come on Harry,” Lupin said to him pulling him away.

“When did my scar open up again?” Harry asked Lupin. “Why didn’t anyone mention it to me sooner?”

“It happened sometime after the attack started but before we were in the safe room. I really don’t know when,” Lupin answered. “Listen, Harry, I have a few more people that I need to talk with before I can wrap up my piece of the clean-up. Once that’s done, we’ll track down Dumbledore. I think that we’ll be able to resume our normal lives for awhile at least.”

Harry decided that if they were going to leave the farmhouse he would need to get his stuff in order. He went up to his bedroom and found Percy Weasley sitting on Ron’s bed.

Harry was surprised, and taken aback. “Percy?” he asked confused. “What’s going on?”

“My dad sent me actually,” Percy said. “Dad wanted you to know that Mum, Ron, and Ginny are all okay. Mum is going to need a few days in the hospital, but they’ll all make a full recovery.”

Harry sighed and sat down. “Good, I was worried.”

“Harry,” Percy began, “There is one other thing, I wanted to apologize. I should have realized that Fudge was using me. I didn’t. Madam Bones explained the whole thing to me after Fudge was forced to leave office. Madam Bones almost fired me as well, but Dad talked to her and she reassigned me to a different area. I’m now in the Portkey office.”

Harry didn’t know what to say, so he didn’t say anything.

“That’s the other reason I’m here. Dad told me to come get you and bring you back to the Burrow. We just need to clear it with Lupin and Dumbledore first.”

“Really?” Harry asked excitedly. “That’s great. I’m glad that you guys are still willing to associate with me after all the pain and suffering I’ve brought to your family.”

“Harry, Charlie was right, it’s not your fault, and everyone knows that. Now at least,” Percy said stiffly.

Harry tracked down Lupin after several minutes of searching, and Harry confirmed that going to the Burrow was fine with him. Tonks was still assigned to be Harry’s guard, and after some more tracking down, she agreed that she would join him by the end of the day. But before they could leave, Albus Dumbledore stopped them.

“Harry,” Dumbledore said gravely, “I think that you should go back to Privet Drive for the rest of this summer.”

“Excuse me, sir,” Percy said. “My father specifically asked me to come get Harry so that he could stay with us for the rest of the summer.”

“I know,” Dumbledore answered Percy, “And I understand the sentiment behind it. I admire your father’s loyalty to Harry. But, I cannot put your family in any more danger. Voldemort may be captured, but he has not been destroyed. I believe the Death Eaters are going to try for Harry at least one more time this summer. Since this house has been breached, Privet Drive is the safest place to go.”

Harry was about to protest, but Dumbledore cut him off, “I know you don’t like this Harry, but it is in everyone’s best interest. The Weasleys have been through enough. Your aunt has been asking to see you. It’s time you went home.”

Harry opened his mouth, closed it again, and then opened it again, but he couldn’t decide what to say. He wanted no part of the Dursleys, now or ever again. He had hoped to be done with them forever when the Muggle Social Service Department gave him to the Grangers. Now it looked like he would have to go back.

Harry finally asked, “What about the Grangers? Aren’t I supposed to be living with them?”

“Yes,” Dumbledore answered, “You are going to be living with the Grangers. Mrs. Granger and Hermione are coming to live with you at Privet Drive.”

“Aren’t my aunt and cousin there?” Harry asked confused.

Dumbledore’s eyes twinkled. “Yes, they are, along with your uncle’s sister. But the Muggle authorities demanded that you not be left alone in your aunt’s custody. Therefore, this situation has arisen. It is just for a week or so. If everything stays quiet and the Ministry has good luck with their interrogation of Voldemort, then at the end of the your stay, you’ll be able to go to King’s Cross and ride the Hogwarts Express like the rest of the students.

“It’s really for the best Harry. I don’t want the protective magic on Privet Drive to weaken. That place is still a refuge for you.” Dumbledore turned and faced Percy. “I’m sorry Percy. Tell your parents that I want Harry to stay with his aunt on Privet Drive for the rest of the summer. They should understand. If not, have them get a hold of me.”

Percy nodded. “I’ll let them know, Professor. See you later, Harry.” Percy got up and walked out of the room.

Dumbledore continued, “Get packed, Harry. The Ministry is sending a car for you now. You’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

A car came to get Harry. Harry’s only companion on the journey was Tonks. Lupin had decided to stay behind, to further help with the investigation at the farmhouse. He promised Harry that he’d keep in touch. Harry had a funny feeling that he just didn’t want to go back to Privet Drive.

It was insanely late when they pulled in the driveway at Number Four Privet Drive. There was a light twinkling merrily in the window. Harry and Tonks grabbed the luggage out of the trunk of the car and made it into the house.

Harry walked into his house quietly, trying not to wake up anyone, but Aunt Petunia walked out of the living room and pressed him to a hug. Harry was shocked; he couldn’t remember ever being hugged, he confusedly returned the hug to his aunt.

Aunt Petunia was crying, she said, “Oh Harry, I’m so glad to see you. Are you all right?”

“Yeah, I’m all right,” Harry answered stiffly, not knowing exactly how to behave.

“I thought you were going to die, Harry. I really did,” she cried. “I promised Dumbledore that I’d keep you safe and I was sure that you were going to die.” She broke the hug and sobbed some more. Harry patted her shoulder trying to be comforting.

Hermione and Mrs. Granger entered the foyer and they both gave Harry a hug. Mrs. Granger put her arm around Aunt Petunia and led her back into the living room. Harry and Hermione followed, while Tonks took Harry’s stuff up to his bedroom.

Aunt Petunia sobbed for a few minutes more while Harry said his hello’s to the Grangers. Hermione was really curious about the clean-up at the farmhouse, and Harry was really concerned about the Weasleys, especially since Dumbledore refused to let him go back to the Burrow. Aunt Petunia composed herself while Harry and Hermione chatted.

After a few minutes, Aunt Petunia spoke again, “Are you really okay, Harry?”

Harry considered the question, and after a pause said, “I’m really okay. I’ve been getting treatments both from my doctor here in Little Whinging, and some magic too. They have both really helped.”

“What about your gunshot wounds? They’re healed?” she asked.

“Yes, they’re healed.”

“Would you show me?” Aunt Petunia asked.

Harry shrugged and pulled his shirt up a couple of inches on the side to show the scar. It was still angry looking, but it had closed over with scar tissue, with no infection.”

“They said as much, but I didn’t realize,” Aunt Petunia said mostly to herself. “Why didn’t they heal you magically?” she asked Harry. “It would have been a simple matter. Your Mum could have done it.”

“My Mum was a healer?” he asked blankly.

“Yes, she was. She was working at St. Mungo’s when she died. She was working with reversing spells that went awry.”

“I didn’t know that,” Harry admitted to her. Then with a rush of daring Harry asked, “I thought you and my Mum didn’t get along.”

“We didn’t. She could never understand why I didn’t want to be a witch,” Petunia said levelly. “I never could understand why she did.”

“What do you mean you didn’t want to be a witch?” Harry asked confused.

Aunt Petunia sighed and looked at Harry in the face. “I could have gone to Hogwarts, but I decided against it. I didn’t want to be a witch. I wanted to be a normal person. They gave me something to drink and I haven’t had any magic since. Your uncle doesn’t know that I was a witch. He doesn’t know, and I don’t want him to know. I’m as normal as he is now, and there is no reason to bring up my past.”

“You were a witch?” Harry asked stunned.

“Yes, I was. I was doing a great job of distancing myself from magic until you landed on my doorstep. Then every other day it seemed, you were accidentally blowing up the kitchen, finding yourself on the roof of the school, or making your hair grow magically after I just gave you a hair cut. These last few years have been the worse. First the deal with the letters, then Dudley’s tail, then you lost Vernon his huge business deal, then you blew up Marge, then you blew up the living room, then you and Dudley were almost killed by Dementors, and then that huge magical battle on our doorstep. I can’t seem to get away from magic.

“After last year, Vernon started to suspect me, and I had to distance myself from magic again. All I ever wanted was a normal life without magic. And I would have had it if it weren’t for you, Harry.”

“It’s not my fault my parents were murdered,” Harry answered back angrily, “I didn’t ask for this.”

“No you didn’t, but Lily was killed because of you, Harry. She didn’t have to die. He wasn’t after her; he was after you and your Dad. You two are the last of the Potters.”

That was the second time that Harry had been told that Voldemort was after the Potters. Even after all the information he amassed, he didn’t know why. “What does that mean? What is the deal with me being the last of the Potters?”

“Your Mum told me the whole thing before she and your dad were married. I don’t remember all of it. I think your father was a descendent of one of Hogwarts founders. And then there was something about a special ability that all male members of your family have. I don’t know what that was.”

“I have a special ability?” Harry asked more to Hermione than anyone.

Aunt Petunia answered, “Apparently. Listen Harry, I don’t want your uncle knowing that I was a witch. So we’ll keep this between you and me. In exchange, I won’t let Vernon know that it was really you the gunman was after.”

Harry was shocked that his aunt realized the gunman was after him, so he just nodded his agreement.

Petunia continued, “I’m glad you’re home, Harry, but don’t push your luck. Please try and not cause any more trouble for the rest of the summer. You are sleeping in Dudley’s room for the week. The Grangers are staying in your room.”

Harry nodded again and after a few more minutes of chit chat, the group broke up and went to bed for the evening.

The week at Privet Drive was strange. The odd mix of company both caused strain and harmony at the same time. Harry knew that Aunt Petunia wasn’t happy about the Grangers being there, but they were legally required to be there or both Aunt Petunia and Mrs. Granger would be in trouble with social services. Aunt Petunia didn’t want to admit to Aunt Marge that she lost custody of Harry. Aunt Marge would insist that they all leave, Harry included, which Aunt Petunia couldn’t allow because Harry was under her protection magically. Aunt Petunia kept Aunt Marge under wraps by having her running all the errands, and having her stay with Uncle Vernon for a good portion of the day.

With Aunt Petunia back in her right mind, Dudley was studying every morning from around nine in the morning until lunchtime. Hermione for some reason got a kick out of this. She hadn’t been in a Muggle school in a long time, but she apparently did quite well when she was there. She was reading Dudley’s text books and trying to learn his Geometry. They sat together and studied. Dudley didn’t know what to think, but he seemed to like the company.

Mrs. Granger tried to stay out of the way, so as not to cause Harry any more problems with his family. But she was obviously incensed about both Petunia and Marge’s general treatment of Harry. At one point, she muttered under her breath, “If I was magical, I would turn them both into toads.” Her presence and relationship with Harry kept Aunt Petunia in line.

Tonks was another matter. She was her usually enthusiastic self, trying to help everyone, which annoyed Aunt Petunia to no end. Harry kept Tonks busy. He was having her teach him all sort of defensive magic in their free hours.

So it worked out that Mrs. Granger kept Aunt Petunia from treating Harry poorly, while Aunt Petunia kept Aunt Marge out of the way so she wouldn’t treat Harry poorly, Dudley was becoming friends with Hermione which kept him from treating Harry poorly, and Hermione and Mrs. Granger didn’t press any issues with them to keep the peace. It was an interesting circle with Harry in the middle, who was keeping Tonks busy so that he wouldn’t annoy Aunt Petunia.

The week passed both quickly and quietly. Lupin stopped by several times to keep Harry posted on the news. The interrogation of Voldemort was actually going fairly well. Lupin suspected that Harry would be able to go to King’s Cross with Hermione on the first of September. Lupin said that if Harry was allowed to ride the train, he probably wouldn’t need a guard.

Harry was glad. He liked Tonks, but she did attract attention. And if they added more guards, then Harry wouldn’t be able to hang out with anyone. He could just imagine the look on Malfoy’s face if he showed up with a guard of ten Aurors. No one would let him live it down.

Harry received his answer about the Hogwarts Express in a Daily Prophet article four days before the start of term.

Interrogation of He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named Continues; Boy-Who-Lived Resumes Normal Life

The Daily Prophet has continued to monitor the interrogation of You-Know-Who. Several plots to destroy the Ministry of Magic have surfaced. No further plots to destroy Harry Potter have been uncovered. The Ministry believes that the attack at the farmhouse was the last planned attack on the Potter boy.

Harry Potter has returned to his home in Surrey to stay with his aunt, Petunia Dursley, sister to Lily Potter. Harry has been reported to be in good health and spirits by Remus Lupin, liaison to the Ministry of Magic. He will start term in four days with the rest of the Hogwarts students. Albus Dumbledore has confirmed that Harry will ride the Hogwarts Express with the rest of the students...

Harry showed the article to Hermione and smiled, “It looks like my life is getting back to normal. They’re going to let me ride the Hogwarts Express.”

“That’s great, Harry. It wouldn’t be the same without you,” Hermione answered.

The Ministry again sent a car this time to transport Harry and Hermione to King’s Cross. Mrs. Granger and Tonks were also coming and to Harry’s disbelief, his Aunt Petunia decided to see him off. Quite unlike his harried trips to King’s Cross with the Weasley family, between Mrs. Granger and Aunt Petunia everyone was ready by 8:30. The car was quickly loaded they were off by a quarter to nine. The car had been magically expanded on the inside so everyone fit in with room to spare. They had a very quiet drive to King’s Cross.

Once there, Tonks and the driver found trolleys for the trunks and the party was off. Before they got to the platform, they were ambushed by the Weasleys. Fred, George, Ginny, Ron, Percy, Mr. and Mrs. Weasley all surrounded them. There were lots of hugs, hellos, and general merriment. Mrs. Weasley even engaged Aunt Petunia is some very forced conversation.

They proceeded to the platform and one by one the Weasley’s disappeared. Then Hermione and Mrs. Granger went through the wall, and then all was left was Harry and Aunt Petunia.

“I can’t do this, Harry,” she said looking frightened.

“Yes, you can,” Harry said, “it’s easy. The wall isn’t really there. You just step through.”

“But I’m not magical, not anymore,” she said backing away from the wall.

“Neither is Hermione’s mum, and she did it. Come on,” Harry said taking her arm. “We have to go through to get to the train.” Harry slowly walked his aunt through the barrier. Platform 9 ¾ appeared before them with the train steaming waiting for its journey.

Aunt Petunia gasped as platform materialized. She collected herself well, and said to Harry, “Thank you Harry. I need to speak to Dumbledore, keep your eyes open for him.”

Harry nodded and looked around for all of his friends. The Weasleys and Grangers were getting their trunks and pets loaded on the train. Harry meant to follow when he was stopped by his aunt.

“Wait Harry,” she said warily. “You need to stay by me.”

“What? I’m not five,” Harry protested.

She gave him a nasty look and said, “Just stay.”

Harry shrugged and then asked, “Can we at least go and load my trunk on the train?”

“Fine, but please help me find Albus Dumbledore, its important,” she repeated.

They joined the crowd of people loading trunks on the train. Harry had just gotten his trunk loaded, when they spotted Dumbledore.

“Mrs. Dursley,” Dumbledore called over the crowd.

Aunt Petunia waved and gave him a sign to show that he saw him and she and Harry walked over to a quiet spot to wait for him.

“Good morning, Mrs. Dursley,” Dumbledore greeted, “you wanted to talk with me?”

“Yes,” Aunt Petunia said. “Thank you for meeting with me. Voldemort is obviously still coming after Harry. I don’t care what the Ministry of Magic says, he going to try for Harry again. What precautions have you taken for his safety?”

Harry reeled at the question. His aunt was concerned about his safety?

Dumbledore answered seriously, “As I explained in my last letter, Harry has two guards riding with him on the train, and there will be full squad of Aurors at Hogwarts defending the school. We will have extra guards on hand at all sports events.”

“What about the trips to the village?” Aunt Petunia asked.

Harry reeled again. How did she know about trips into Hogsmead?

Dumbledore looked at Harry sadly and then said, “Harry will not be able to attend the Hogsmead weekends. His permission slip is not signed.”

Harry fumed angrily; his slip was signed, from Sirius his godfather. Granted Sirius was dead, but it still was signed.

“That’s probably for the best,” Aunt Petunia nodded at Dumbledore. “I wanted to let you know one more thing, if you in anyway put Harry into harms way, I will pull him out of school. I allowed Harry to go to Hogwarts at your insistence, against my better judgment. If he had gone to the local high school in Little Whinging, like I wanted, this thing with Voldemort would be over. Harry wouldn’t be a threat to him and he would leave our family alone.”

“Like I said then, Voldemort would still come after Harry regardless of what school he attended. He wasn’t a threat when he was a baby, but Voldemort tried to kill him anyway. But I have no intention of putting Harry in harms way. I’m not going to send him after Voldemort. But when Voldemort attacks, and I guarantee that he will, Harry will be ready to face him. Harry is taking a set of special classes intended to prepare him for that day. Until then, I will continue to guard him at school.”

“All right then,” Aunt Petunia said seeming satisfied. “Thank you Professor Dumbledore.” She then turned to Harry and continued, “I’m going to take off now Harry. The Ministry driver is waiting for me. Have a good year.”

Harry nodded and said, “I’ll see you.”

She smiled at him and turned back to the barrier and walked back through without flinching. Harry joined his friends and their parents over by the luggage car. They had a nice half and hour discussing this and that until it was time to load the train.

Ron, Hermione, and Ginny this year too went to the prefect car at the front of the train. Harry wandered through the train until he found Neville, Seamus, and Dean all together in one car.

“Harry,” they chorused together excitedly.

Harry smiled and sat down in an empty seat by the window beside Neville.

“So are you all right Harry?” Neville asked as soon as Harry was settled. “They said you were pierced? In the paper it said that you were hurt by some Muggle weapon, snopped?”

“It was a gun Neville,” Dean corrected him; “Harry was shot. So are you okay Harry?”

Harry nodded and answered, “I’m fine now. I have a couple more scars I suppose, but at least no one can see the new ones.”

Seamus chipped in, “Well, it doesn’t look like the old one is doing too well, either.”

Harry’s hand flew instinctively to his head and felt the scab in the center of his forehead. Harry smiled sheepishly at them and said, “I keep forgetting about that.”

“So what exactly happened?” Dean probed.

Harry sighed, “It is a very long story.”

Seamus answered, “We have an eight hour train ride.”

Harry smiled at him, “All right, but I’m only giving you the short version. I got off the Hogwarts Express last June,”

Dean interrupted, “This is the short version?”

Seamus whacked him in the chest and he shut up. “Go on, Harry,” Seamus said.

Harry chuckled and said, “I got off the train and went home with my aunt and uncle. Before we got into our house, a gunman shot at my family.”

Neville interrupted then, “You didn’t even get into your house?”

“No,” Harry continued. “I was shot twice before I took him out. He got my uncle a couple hit of times as well. Before I knew what was happening, Professor Lupin showed up at my house.”

“Professor Lupin?” Dean asked surprised.

“Yeah, Professor Lupin,” Harry continued. “And then, like twenty death eaters showed up and Professor Lupin defended my family from them.”

“He certainly did know his stuff,” Neville commented.

“The Aurors arrived shortly after that, but I was taken to a Muggle hospital and then went into emergency surgery.”

“They said that in the paper, but I couldn’t believe it,” Neville interjected. “My gran said it too, why didn’t they take you to St. Mungos?”

“I was taken to the Muggle hospital before any Wizard could get to me. By the time they figured out where I was I was already in surgery and they were worried that the potions the Muggles gave me would react badly with the ones the healers at St. Mungo would give me. That and I would have had trouble at St. Mungos because my aunt and uncle were completely incapacitated and they wouldn’t have been able to give permission to treat me.”

“I can’t believe they left you in Muggle care,” Neville sighed.

Dean spoke up, “The Muggles do a good job with that type of thing. I’m sure it wasn’t too bad.”

Harry looked at him, “Have you ever been shot?”

Dean sputtered, “Well, no, but…”

“It hurts like hell, Dean. It’s not quite as bad the Cruciatus Curse, but that usually doesn’t last for too long. The pain from the hole in my side lasted for days.”

Seamus looked surprised, “You’ve been under the Cruciatus Curse?”

It was Harry’s turn to look puzzled, “Yeah, a couple times.”

“Really?” Dean asked.

“Yes, Voldemort hit me with it in the graveyard when he killed Cedric, and then at the whole fiasco at the Ministry of Magic,” Harry paused and looked at Neville, “Belatrix LeStrange hit me with it there.”

Neville demeanor changed instantly to one of hatred. He didn’t say anything but he clenched his hands into fists.

Harry continued, “Anyway, when we were at the hospital, a bomb went off. So they moved me back home. Then later that night, I was attacked by another Muggle, this one was like a ninja.”

“A Ninja?” Dean asked, “really?”

“That’s who got Ron and his brothers,” Harry added.

“What’s a ninja?” Neville asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Dean said to him. “Go on Harry.”

“Well, we managed to take him out, but then it was obvious that I couldn’t stay at home any more. It took about a week, but they found the old farmhouse, and we went to stay out there.”

“’His Last Stand,’” Seamus commented.

“Huh?” Harry asked.

“That’s what the papers called it, the battle at that farmhouse, ‘His Last Stand’.” Seamus explained. “I guess you didn’t get the paper.”

“No, I guess not, I didn’t see that,” Harry admitted. “Anyway, after that whole thing, I went back home, and now I’m here. There, that’s short version. Good enough?”

“No,” Dean answered, “How did your scar open up again?”

Harry thought for a minute and then said, “Do you remember that night when I had that dream that made me so sick?”

“How could we forget?” Dean answered, “That was pretty memorable.”

“Well, it was like that, only worse,” Harry answered. Harry didn’t want to go into the mental attacks. He wasn’t exactly sure his friends thought he was in his right mind to beginning with; he didn’t want to give them more reasons to doubt his sanity.

Neville looked over at Harry, his fists still clenched and with an unnerving look he said, “You and I are in this together Harry.”

Harry looked startled at Neville’s comment but didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

Neville continued, “I know Harry. My gran told me. My parents were tortured for the contents of that prophesy, which is why they are in bad way now. The Lestranges didn’t want to know where he was, they wanted know what the prophesy said and my parents knew, just like your parents did.”

Harry was painfully aware the Dean and Seamus were hanging on every word and that they shouldn’t. It was too serious to discuss in open company. Harry nodded, gave Neville a hard look and said, “Hey, could you help me for a minute Neville, I need to go get Hermione’s cat. I just remembered. They’re in the prefect car. We’ll be right back,” he said to Dean and Seamus.

Harry pulled Neville out toward the front of the car and looked hard at Neville, “You know what the prophesy said?”

“I do now.” Neville confided as they walked forward.

“Do not, under any circumstances, tell anyone you know. You’re right, it could have been either of us, but for whatever reason, Voldemort picked me. I didn’t realize that your parents were tortured for the contents of the prophesy. It does make sense. Keep it quiet and when we get back to school you and I should go talk to Dumbledore.”

“What now?” Neville asked.

Harry got a good look at him for the first time and realized that Neville was a lot taller than he remembered. His round face had thinned and he looked powerful, strong.

“We get Hermione’s cat I guess,” Harry chuckled. They kept walking toward the prefect’s cabin.

“Oh and Harry, I wanted to thank you. I got an O in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Gran about fell over. It’s the best mark I’ve ever gotten at Hogwarts.”

Harry smiled and grabbed an angry Crookshanks from a confused Hermione and returned to the compartment.

The train started a few minutes later and they were off to Hogwarts. Ron, Hermione, and Ginny all dropped in after a bit. They had a very pleasant afternoon. When the lunch cart came around, Harry treated like he usually did, but to Harry’s dismay, Hermione pushed a sandwich in his hand.

“Mum made it for you,” Hermione said, “its ham and swiss.”

Harry smiled at her and said, “Thanks.”

“That’s what sisters are for right?” she answered smiling.

The train ride wore on into the early evening. The sun was beginning to turn the sky a violent looking red color as it sank to the west.

Hermione commented on it, “Looks like we’re going to get a storm.”

Ron was just standing up to look out the window when a piece of parchment appeared out of nowhere in the middle of the air with a red feather and dropped to the floor.

Ron fell backwards in surprise, “Bloody hell, what was that?”

Harry grabbed it, he had a rough idea. He unrolled the parchment and read three sentences on the page.
Harry swore under his breath and looked directly at Ron and Hermione. “We need to secure the train, now.”

Hermione looked surprised and took the parchment out of Harry’s hand. She read out loud, “’Voldemort and all death eaters have escaped. Prepare for another attack. Secure the train.’ Ron, Ginny let’s go and alert the other prefects. We have to protect the younger students.”

“No,” Harry said sharply. “You alert the prefects and you alert Malfoy. He’ll do something I’m sure. We’ll secure the train, but just the DA. Grab whomever you can find. Let’s go, we don’t have much time.”

Half of them ran one way, half the other and they were magically sealing compartments as they went. It wouldn’t hold off the Death Eaters for long, but it was something. Ron, Harry, and Neville were sealing compartments toward the back, when all the lights went out in the train.

“Lumos,” Harry, Ron and Neville yelled together as if by instinct. Once the wands lit, Harry could see a Death Eater walking up the train. It was Lucius Malfoy. He wasn’t even bothering to wear his Death Eater mask.

Malfoy didn’t hesitate, “Stupefy,” he yelled. The spell shot out and the three teens dove out of the way.

Ron was in front and he did a dive roll and got back up shooting. “Stupefy,” he called as the spell worked toward Malfoy, he ducked at it hit someone behind him. It was then that Harry, Ron, and Neville realized that there were at least fifteen death eaters behind Malfoy.

Harry swore and pulled Ron down, but not before a serious number of spells flew their way. They ducked again, and the spells all went high. Luckily for Harry, Ron, and Neville, there wasn’t a lot of room in the hallway and the Death Eaters didn’t want to hit Malfoy in the front.

Neville nudged Harry and pointed behind them. At least ten more Death Eaters were approaching from the back. It was like the Department of Mysteries all over again, except this time Harry didn’t have a bargaining chip. Harry stood up and faced Malfoy. There was no point crouching, they were surrounded. Ron and Neville quickly followed.

“Hello, Potter,” Malfoy drawled. “I’ve heard you’ve had a rough summer.”

“Not as bad as being in Azkaban,” Harry shot back.

“I didn’t suffer in Azkaban. For some reason the Dementors didn’t like me. But they do like you, don’t they Potter.” Malfoy waved his hand lazily and Harry felt the cold icy dread that meant a Dementor was near.

Malfoy continued, “I’m going to give you a choice Potter. Despite our reputation, we aren’t in the habit of hurting children, especially our own. The Dark Lord wants you, no one else. If you come with us now, no one gets hurt. If you fight or try and insight the other students to fight, we’ll give the Dementers one student every minute until you come. I don’t know if the Dementers kiss hurts do you? You had a close call a couple of times. Maybe we’ll start with this little girl?”

The Death Eaters from behind drew to with feet of Neville. Another Death Eater from in front brought forward what must have been a first year girl. She was tiny, with long black hair, and crying. She looked vaguely like Parvati and Padma Patil. Harry racked his brain, what could he do?

Malfoy held her close and then stroked her hair and waved again. “Such a pity, such a waste, such a beautiful girl, she would have made a fine witch.”

Harry felt the sinking feeling that a Dementor was approaching. Harry fought to keep his head as it approached. Malfoy gestured for the Dementor to take the girl and the Dementor started to lower his hood to her face.

“Wait!” Harry cried, coming to a snap decision. He dropped his wand held up his hands in surrender. “Don’t. I’ll come. I’ll come quietly. Just leave her alone, leave them all alone.”

“Good,” Lucius said, “I’m glad you came around to our point of view. I thought you would, Crucio,” he yelled and the spell hit Harry.

Harry fell to the ground, the pain coming from everywhere. It lasted for a minute which seemed like hours. Then the spell was lifted. Malfoy’s voice came back to Harry’s ears. “That’s for getting me locked up in Azkaban. Crucio,” he yelled again.

The pain came from everywhere, like his very blood was boiling. It stopped and Harry laid still on the floor, “That’s for everything you’ve done to my son. Come on Potter, you have a meeting to attend.”

Ron and Neville started shooting spells at the people coming toward Harry, but they were quickly hit by spells and fell on the floor. Harry felt rough hands grab him and put him on his feet. Malfoy magically tied ropes to his hands and pulled him to toward front of the train.

Harry saw as he passed each compartment the eyes of all the Hogwarts students watching him being led out of the train. Most of the eyes looked very scared. Some looked sympathetic, some looked angry. They reached the front of the train and Hermione, Ginny, Dean, Seamus, and several other DA members jumped out of the front train car.

Before Hermione could do anything, Harry raised his bound hands to stop her, “Hermione don’t! They’ll just kill you. They only want me. If I go with them, the rest of you are safe.”

Hermione was rooted to the spot, and said, “Harry, no. Don’t do this.”

Harry smiled at her, “Take care of Ron okay.”

Hermione and Ginny both started crying. The DA members behind her looked like they was going to try something, but Harry stopped them, “Don’t. Don’t give them an excuse to hurt you. Once I’m gone, they’ll leave you alone.”

Noise was building at the other end of the train. Malfoy, looking worried, pulled at Harry’s rope and then pushed him off the train. With his hands bound, Harry fell into the ground face first. Malfoy jumped down next to him and pushed him into a nearby field. Malfoy forced a bottle into his hands. In a whirl of color, the Portkey whizzed Harry and Lucius Malfoy away.

Harry’s feet landed onto soft earth, but with his hands bound he couldn’t keep his balance and once again fell to the ground. Malfoy kicked him hard in the ribs and said, “Get up Potter. Face your death like a man.”

Harry rolled over and pushed to his knees. He tried to get a grasp of his surroundings, but it didn’t help. They were outside, but the surrounding hills didn’t seem familiar. Malfoy roughly pulled Harry to his feet and dragged him across the lawn to a house. They entered it and Harry had a vague feeling that he had been here before.

They entered the house through the kitchen and saw Wormtail standing by the counter waiting for them. He was flexing his new silvery hand in a nervous way. “Lucius,” he said, “he’s expecting you and the boy. Go right in.”

“Thanks Worm,” Malfoy answered contemptuously.

Malfoy pulled a bit harder on Harry’s rope and pulled him into the living room. Harry glanced back at Wormtail and saw him looking back with an odd look. Harry turned away disgusted, and wondered why he had spared his life. It seemed like the right idea at the time, but if he would have let Lupin and Sirius kill him when they had the chance, none of this would have happened.

Harry stumbled into the living room and realized he had visited this room several time in his dreams. This was where Voldemort had killed an old man and tortured several of his Death Eaters. Malfoy led him toward fireplace and pushed him into a chair. Harry looked to see Voldemort sitting across from him. His scar throbbed painfully again.

“Good evening, Harry Potter. You once again have proved to be a nuisance. Crucio,!” Voldemort hissed.

Harry writhed in agony. It seemed to go on and on. Harry’s whole body seemed to be tearing itself apart. A small voice in the back of his brain said ‘think of the lake.’ In the midst of the pain, Harry brought up the lake shield that he used to prevent mind attacks. The shield seemed to be helping. Harry could still feel the pain, but it seemed like it was far away. The rest of his brain was free.

Harry used this time to try and figure out a way out of his predicament. There was no way that anyone was going to be able to find him. His wand was back on the Hogwarts Express, so he wouldn’t be able to do any kind of spell. All of sudden the tension released and the pain was gone. Harry slumped into the chair, exhausted. His whole body ached.

Voldemort spoke to him again, “You need to die Potter. You have made that difficult. No person has ever been so troublesome, not even your parents. It took me four attempts on them, but they finally did die. There are so many ways to kill a person Harry. I have decided to experiment on you. Since you are so good at eluding death, my Death Eaters and I are going to experiment on you until we figure out what works.”

Harry moved to pull his body closer to himself. He wasn’t just going to be killed; he was going to be tortured first. He was completely helpless. No mother to die for him, no wand to defend himself, no Portkey to take him back to Hogwarts, and no hope.

Voldemort hit him with another round of pain. Harry retreated into his brain and brought up the lake picture. The pain faded into the distance, still there, but manageable. Harry began to despair. His life began to flash before his eyes. He saw his aunt and uncle humiliating him and Dudley chasing him. He saw the Dementors, and Sirius falling through the veil.

‘Wait,’ a voice said in the back of his mind, ‘Hope’. Harry thought he heard the sound of Phoenix song and other images started entering his mind. He, Ron and Hermione were walking through the Hogwarts grounds to go see Hagrid. He was flying on broom playing Quidditch with the Gryffindor team. The pain lessened and then suddenly went away completely.

Harry opened his eyes thinking that the spell had been lifted. But to his great surprise Voldemort was still concentrating on Harry with all his might. He looked at Voldemort and said, “Stop.” He made the spell go away.

Voldemort looked at Harry frightened. He yelled “Crucio,” again and the spell had no affect at all. Harry could block it. Harry used the moment of distraction to make a run for it.

“Lucius, Stop him!” Voldemort cried panicked. Malfoy grabbed Harry and threw him to the ground. The larger man then kicked him several times in the ribs and Harry yelped out as he felt one of the bones break. Malfoy bodily hauled him up and threw him back into the chair. Malfoy shot more ropes out of his wand and tied Harry securely to the chair.

Even the pain in his side didn’t stop the hope from building in Harry’s chest. They might still kill him, but at least he could block the curse. They wouldn’t be able to torture him into insanity like they did to Neville’s parents.

“Apparently he can block the Cruciatus Cruse just like his father. More torture will be useless. Kill him,” Voldemort ordered to Malfoy.

Malfoy looked at Voldemort in horror and started simpering the way that his son did when he didn’t want to do something in class. “I’m not use the killing curse on him. What if it backfires again?”

“It won’t. That was a fluke because his mother died to save him. It was her protection that caused the spell to misfire. I have gotten around that protection,” Voldemort answered. “Kill him now, Malfoy.”

Malfoy didn’t look convinced, but took aim at Harry and yelled, “Avada Kedavra.” Harry saw the green light flashing toward him again and shrunk into himself. The spell missed, instead hitting the top of the chair Harry was sitting in.

Voldemort looked furious, “I said kill him, Malfoy. Kill him now.”

Malfoy took aim again and yelled, “Avada Kedavra.” This time the spell went wide.

“Crucio,” Voldemort yelled and Malfoy writhed in agony. He lifted the spell quickly and said to him, “Kill the boy.”

“I’m trying,” Malfoy said, “something is going wrong. Why don’t you have Wormtail try?”

Voldemort clapped his hands. “Wormtail,” he called, “I need you Wormtail.”

Pettigrew came into the room and looked fearfully at Voldemort. “Yes master?”

“Come here and kill the Potter boy, Worm.”

“Me?” Pettigrew asked talking to the floor. “Sir, that is an honor that should be reserved only to you, and your most faithful servants. I will not take the honor away from Lucius.”

“No, Peter,” Voldemort said with a touch of humanity in his voice, “this is a perfect job for you.”

Pettigrew walked into the room and stood next to Malfoy. Peter took aim and said, “Avada Kedavra.”

The green light flashed toward Harry and hit him squarely in the chest. Harry couldn’t breathe and he felt like he was drowning, but it only lasted a second and then it was over. Harry slumped against his ropes, weak, but still very much alive.

“Wormtail,” Voldemort roared. “You cannot even kill a boy tied to a chair. You are the most pathetic excuse for a Wizard that ever lived. Crucio.”

Wormtail then fell to the ground in pain, moaning and screaming. Harry was vividly reminded of the night of Voldemort’s return.

Lucius Malfoy seemed heartened that the spell didn’t bounce and took aim again and yelled, “Avada Kedavra.”

The green light streaked toward Harry, and somewhere in his head he heard his mother screaming and just as the spell hit him, an electric pulse shot through Harry. It was painful and Harry screamed due to the pain of it, but the spell didn’t connect. The green light came streaking back toward Malfoy. Malfoy yelped fearfully and ducked out of quickly out the way, as the spell missed him by inches.

Harry was now very drained. Although, the last spell didn’t really hit, it had taken a lot out of him. Harry leaned forward heavily on the ropes that held him to the chair. He was barely conscious. He tried to think, tried to figure out what he needed to do to stay alive. But he couldn’t, he was so tired, all he wanted to do was pass out. But he couldn’t, he knew that there was no hope, but he wanted to face death awake and alert.

“I’m open to suggestions,” Voldemort stated flatly to the other two men.

“We could slit his throat. We have knives in the kitchen,” Wormtail suggested standing up.

“Yes, Wormtail. Go and get one,” Voldemort answered. Pettigrew quickly left the room, and returned a minute later with a butcher knife.

Wormtail handed the knife to Malfoy. “You have the honor to serve the master.”

Malfoy took the large knife over to Harry and then stopped. He looked at Harry puzzled, like he didn’t know what to do. It only lasted a moment, and then he grabbed Harry by the head, and screamed very loudly.

Malfoy dropped the knife and held his hands in the air as if they were burning. After a moment there was the acrid smell of burning skin. Malfoy raced out of the room and there was a sound of running water. Malfoy had put his hands in the sink to cool the burns.

Harry slumped even further into his chair.

Voldemort yelled in frustration, “Why won’t you just die, boy! Crucio!”

The spell hit and the pain started again, but Harry weakly found the block and after a few seconds he was able to turn the spell off.

Voldemort hollered in rage and said Crucio again, but this time to Wormtail. Wormtail immediately collapsed into fits on the floor. That seemed to pacify Voldemort somewhat; just to hurt somebody seemed to be all he wanted.

Malfoy walked back into the room his arms freely bleeding where he had touched Harry. It extended all the way up his right arm.

“What about a sword?” Malfoy asked. “We could run him through with a sword and never touch him.”

“Perfect,” Voldemort agreed. “There is an old sword upstairs in my father’s bedroom. Run and fetch it Worm.”

Wormtail left the room while Harry slumped even further onto the ropes holding him to the chair. His eyes started to do funny things. He started seeing lights dancing the corners of his vision.

Wormtail returned a few minutes later with an ancient looking sword. Wormtail bowed to Voldemort and handed the sword over to him.

Voldemort immediately handed back the sword to Wormtail. “You are my servant Peter. This is your job. Run the Potter boy through Worm.”

Wormtail looked at Harry, and then back to Voldemort, and then back to Harry and then back to Voldemort. Finally, seeming to reach some kind of decision, he held the sword up to Harry. He set the blade of the sword on Harry’s shoulder where there was just a bit of bare skin peaking out from under his large T-Shirt. An electric pulse again shot through Harry again. Harry heard his mother’s scream so clearly now that he thought even Voldemort heard it.

The shock ran through the blade down into Peter’s hands and body. The electric pulse had pushed the blade away and Peter holding on to the other end, fell to the floor with a large thud. He stayed there whimpering for a minute, before Malfoy ordered him at wand point to get up.

“Let’s throw him into the gorge,” Malfoy yelled still holding his burnt hands in the air. “It’s five-hundred foot drop to the bottom of the canyon. Let’s see Potter get out of that one.”

“Yes, that’s perfect. There is no way his mother can protect him from that. We’ll make it a ceremonial killing,” Voldemort commanded. “All of the Death Eater will come and together we will throw him over the side. We will usher out the only thing standing in my way to full power. Tie him up to something so we can transport him.”

Wormtail untied Harry again, careful not to touch his bare skin, and pulled him to his feet. Harry staggered and fell immediately to the floor. Wormtail tried to heave him up, but his hands started to burn. He ran off and Malfoy using the ropes, dragged Harry out of the room and out into the grounds. Voldemort followed behind. They walked for about ten minutes in a very beautiful countryside, Malfoy dragging Harry along behind him. They reached the gorge that Malfoy had talked about. Wormtail joined them and Voldemort touched the dark mark on Wormtail’s arm.

Within two minutes, the place where they stood was filled with Death Eaters. They formed a ring around Harry, Malfoy and Voldemort.

“My dear friends,” Voldemort addressed them. “You are here to witness a great event, the last moments of life for the orphan hero, Harry Potter.” As he spoke, Wormtail tied his feet together and then tied his hands to his feet, never touching Harry’s skin. Wormtail then bound Harry’s hands and feet to a long stick.

“Malfoy here was good enough to bring me the one thing standing in my way, Harry Potter. Once this irritating child is out of the way, we will move forward with our most ambitious plans. Potter is the last hurdle. You will witness here tonight his final moments. We will be ushering Mr. Potter off the side of the gorge. Crabbe, Goyle, would like the honor of showing Harry Potter to his death?”

The both murmured yes very quietly and moved out of the circle. They picked up Harry’s body first and then reeled as they were burned with an electric charge.

Voldemort laughed a cold hideous laugh, “Use the branch, Harry’s mother is still trying to protect him. Do not touch him.”

Crabbe and Goyle picked up Harry using the tree branch and walked to the edge of the gorge.

Voldemort said coldly, “Good bye, Harry Potter. Your future awaits you.” He nodded to them and they threw him over the side.

Harry’s body hit the side of the gorge ripping painfully into his skin. He bounced off and watched the ground approaching. This was it. There was no one to save him now, no parents to die for him, no Fawkes to fly to the rescue, no Ron and Hermione to help, no Dumbledore. In a way, he was finally free. Free to die and join his parents and Sirius.

His thoughts raced between his parents and Sirius. He thought that they wouldn’t be happy that he died but it would be nice to be with people who cared about him. He then thought about Aunt Petunia and realized that she did care about him, at least in some fashion. She wouldn’t want him to die anyway. Then Ron and Hermione came to mind. They definitely cared about him. The Grangers and the Weasleys and the professors at Hogwarts all cared about him too. Even Marie and Jim from the pub in Builth Wells cared about him.

Harry began to hum a song that Marie and Jim had taught him in the pub back in Builth Wells. It was about a bird flying through the sky, it seemed somehow appropriate. He remembered their pub, he immersed himself in the memory, until it was like he was there again, listening to the music, smelling the fish frying, the musky scent of Jim’s pipe.

He looked at the ground fast approaching and he wanted to be thinking of that wonderful place when he died. He focused all of his energy, all of his mind on the pub in Builth Wells, and wished that he could see it one more time. He heard a large CRACK and his vision went momentarily wonky. Harry felt squished, and then felt himself hit the ground. But instead of a sickening crunch on a hard rocky canyon, he fell gently on to a wooden floor.

Harry opened his eyes and looked around. He was lying on the floor of Marie and Jim’s pub. He was in Builth Wells. Surprised yells and screams followed him. He was still bound to the tree branch and he ached all over, his ribs were definitely broken, but he was alive. He was alive! Harry tried to sit up, but his head swam. He felt hands grab him and try to help him.

“Harry Potter, land’s sake, how did you get here?” Marie asked concerned.

Jim chimed in next, “Good Lord, boy, what happened to you? Someone call an ambulance.”

Harry couldn’t answer, his head swam and his body ached. He looked at them it hit him that he was in Builth Wells. He hadn’t hit bottom of the canyon, he was in actually in Jim and Marie’s pub. Jim and Marie were here, he was safe. He was going to be okay, and with that realization Harry passed out.

Harry woke up on the floor of the pub. He was still tied up to the branch. It took a minute before he figured out why he woke up, but when he tried to move, his whole body protested. He winced and then looked around the room moving as little of himself as possible, trying to figure out where he was. He saw Remus Lupin standing over him. “Hey,” Harry said weakly. “Where am I?”

Lupin smiled, the relief evident, “You’re at Jim and Marie’s pub in Builth Wells.” Lupin leaned in really close and whispered, “Hang on a few more minutes and the Ministry will be here, including Arthur Weasley.”

Jim leaned over to talk to him, “Harry, are you awake? Land sake boy you gave us a scare. I don’t know how you came in, but I heard you fall on the floor. I don’t how you got in without us seeing you, it is the strangest thing I ever saw, or didn’t see I guess.”

Harry was weak, very weak. He started shuddering and shaking. He was ice cold and his body, especially his chest was very painful. Lupin started to cut the ropes to release his hands.

Marie was nearby too, she knelt down next to Harry and said, “Harry, what happened? You look as though you’ve been attacked. Have you?”

Harry winced as Lupin finished the first cut and his hands came free from the branch. His arms relaxed and fell to the floor. He didn’t have the strength to move them. His wrists were cut through from the ropes. “I was attacked,” Harry murmured in reply.

“It’s going to be all right, Harry,” Jim said, “this man here is named Lupin, he’s a doctor, he’s going to help you.”

Harry looked at Lupin and managed to give him a weak smile.

“Can you tell me what happened?” Jim asked as Lupin continued to cut away at the ropes that held his feet.

Lupin spoke up first, “Actually, Harry, why don’t you lay quietly for a minute while I get these ropes off. I don’t want to accidentally cut you.”

Harry understood. Lupin didn’t want him to talk about anything around all these Muggles. He closed his eyes and quietly waited for Lupin to finish cutting his bonds. In that time, Harry heard the door open and he opened his eyes to see several people dressed in wizards ropes come into the room. Within three strides, Mr. Weasley had crossed the room to Harry and knelt down next to him.

“Harry!” he gasped. “Oh my God, what happened?” He turned to Lupin.

Lupin finished cutting the ropes that held Harry. “There that should do it.” He turned and looked at Mr. Weasley, “Thanks for getting here so quickly Arthur. He’s pretty bad; we need to get him to St. Mungo’s right away.”

“What happened, Remus? All we heard was there was accidental use of magic in a Muggle pub. We came as soon as we could.” The other wizards in the room were containing all the Muggles including Marie and Jim.

“I don’t know everything, but I’m assuming that he was hit by the Avada Kedavra again.”

“Why?” Mr. Weasley asked.

“Look at his forehead,” Lupin commanded quietly.

“My God!” Arthur commented.

Harry weakly asked, “What? What about my forehead?”

It took Lupin a minute. He seemed to be deciding what to say and finally he came up with, “You have another scar Harry. You’ll have to see it to understand.”

“Let’s get him out of here,” Mr. Weasley said to Lupin. “It might not be the safest place, but he needs to get to St. Mungo’s. Who knows what the side effects of living through the killing curse are?”

“Agreed, he needs to be seen immediately. Can they take care of this without you? I think we should both be there to guard Harry.”

“They’ll be fine without me. I’ll just check in and tell them we’re taking Harry to St. Mungo’s.”

Mr. Weasley left and returned a few moments later with an Auror he’d never met.

The new Auror said, “Hello Harry. We need to get you to St. Mungo’s. We are going to take you there by Portkey. But before you go, can you tell me how you got here.”

Harry said weakly, “I don’t know.”

Lupin spoke up, “He Apparated.”

The Auror looked puzzled and said, “He’s a bit young for that isn’t he?”

“I’m positive he Apparated. That’s how I found him. As soon as I heard that Harry was kidnapped, I asked the Wizards who monitor underage magic to pay special attention to anything odd. They found an underage use of Apparation in this pub. That’s the only way Harry could have gotten here. He was kidnapped from the Hogwarts Express just a couple of hours ago. He must have accidentally Apparated away from Voldemort.”

The Auror shuddered at the mention of the name. Harry’s own shaking grew more violent and Lupin once again kneeled over him. Lupin continued, “I think he’s going into shock. We really need to get him out of here.” Lupin pulled off his cloak and tucked it in around Harry. His shuddering decreased some

The Auror nodded and pulled out an extra long quill. He handed it to Mr. Weasley and said, “When you get to St. Mungo’s, hang on to this and give it back to me. It’s our injury transport for victims. We reuse it. Report into me after Harry is stable, Arthur.”

Mr. Weasley nodded and the two men put their hands on the Portkey. Lupin grabbed Harry’s limp hand and forced him to grab a hold. The Auror did a countdown, “5…4…3…2…1…” The three were whisked into St. Mungos.

They arrived in a part of St. Mungos that Harry had never seen. Upon their arrival, the people in the room began to hurry around them.

People were asking Harry questions and he was having trouble keeping everything straight. He found that he couldn’t answer and was having trouble focusing. The lights in the room started dancing with beautiful lights. He heard noises in his ears and watched the lights fascinated. He felt something in his mouth and he swallowed it. Almost instantly the lights stopped dancing and he could understand the world around him.

Lupin was looking at him very concerned, “Harry?” he asked “they want to know what happened so they can treat you. Can you tell us what happened?”

Harry started to think about it and then he began to shake again. Visions of the night flashed, Voldemort’s face, the green light flashing toward him over and over again, and the worst, watching the ground approaching after being thrown off the cliff. He shut his eyes and willed the thoughts away.

Mr. Weasley’s sharp voice came in from somewhere, “You can treat him without knowing what exactly what happened. He was tortured by You-Know-Who, let’s not make him relive it again.”

Someone gave Harry another potion and he was washed away to peaceful blackness.

When Harry woke, he was in a soft bed with some light flickering around him. He glanced around his room. Mrs. Weasley and Mrs. Granger were both resting in makeshift beds in the room. There were a few Wizards standing at Harry’s door that looked like part of his farmhouse guard. One of them saw that Harry was awake and quickly left the room. He returned with Albus Dumbledore, Lupin, and a healer.

The room was filled with anxious sighs and relieved voices. Dumbledore spoke first, Harry, how are you feeling?”

Harry sighed, he didn’t know, “I’m here I guess, wherever here is.”

“Are you in any pain?” the healer asked.

“No, not really. My head aches a bit, I guess.”

Dumbledore continued, “You were hit with the killing curse again weren’t you?”

Harry nodded the flash of green light coming toward him again, “Once by Pettigrew, once by Malfoy.”

“What happened?” Dumbledore questioned, “How did you stop the curse?”

“I didn’t,” Harry admitted, “Pettigrew’s hit me and it felt like I was suffocating for a minute, but then I was fine, weak but fine. Malfoy’s curse bounced. It hit me and I heard my mother screaming and it went back toward him. It didn’t hit him though; it was like he was expecting that to happen.”

“Malfoy is the most cleaver of them all, except for maybe Voldemort himself,” Dumbledore commented. “Can you tell me what else happened?”

Harry’s eyes closed, he didn’t want to think about it. He didn’t want to have to relive the night again. But from experience he knew Dumbledore would make him, so he continued. “Once they realized that the killing curse wouldn’t work, they decided to kill me using less magical means.”

“Meaning?” Dumbledore asked gently.

“They first tried to slit my throat with a knife, and when that didn’t work, they tried a sword, which also didn’t work so then they tied me up and threw me off a cliff.”

Mrs. Weasley gasped, “They threw you off a cliff?”

“Yeah, it was really weird. I was falling in the ravine and then all of a sudden I was in that pub in Builth Wells,” Harry admitted.

“He Apparated, Molly,” Lupin said. “That’s how I found him. I was watching for unauthorized underage magic outside of Hogwarts. There was use of Apparation magic in Builth Wells and I knew it had to him.”

“Do you know how to Apparate Harry?” Mrs. Weasley asked.

“No,” Harry admitted tiredly, “I have no idea how.”

Lupin handed the piece of parchment he’d been holding to Mrs. Weasley. “See what I mean.”

“Yes,” she said scanning the paper quickly, “but it’s highly unusual.”

“So were the circumstances,” Lupin stated dryly. “Harry was under extreme duress, and he is extremely powerful. He did it when he was nine too; check the top of the report. Harry has a long history with the Ministry. They’ve been cleaning up his accidental magic since he got to Privet Drive.”

“Harry we have to get you out of here. St. Mungo’s is not safe for you. We’re leaving as soon as possible. We’re taking you back to Hogwarts. You’ll be safer there,” Dumbledore told him.

The healer in the room looked irritated, but said, “I’m going to be sending special instructions to Madam Pomfrey. You had a couple of broken ribs, a broken arm, and some pretty nasty cuts and scrapes. Those are all repaired now, but you’ve been through a serious trauma. You’ll be weak for quite a well, an after effect of being hit by the killing curse. Take it slowly. Most people would be dead three times over tonight and your body will feel the effects.”

Harry nodded and moved to sit up. She was right, now that he tried to move, every muscle in his body hurt. He felt like he had been run over. He moved slowly to a sit and then moved to stand. He tried to stand, but his vision filled with stars and he had to sit down again.

The healer said, “Please wait Harry, I’ll get you some potion that will to help.” She left the room and returned a few moments later. She handed a vial to Harry.

Harry drank the peppery liquid and slowly got to his feet. They walked out of the room into the hallway where there was a fireplace at the end of the hall. Dumbledore took some Floo powder out and threw it into the fire. He stepped in and called “Hogwarts.” Harry followed suit and found himself, at last, finally at Hogwarts. Granted he was in the staff room, but it was Hogwarts.

Lupin came out of the fire behind Harry and then the three of them walked quietly to the hospital wing. Even with the help of the potion, the effort of walking to the hospital wing was exhausting. Harry started to stumble and Lupin caught him.

“Come on Harry,” he encouraged, “it’s not too much further.”

They made it to the hospital wing and Harry collapsed on nearby bed. Dumbledore talked to Madam Pomfrey while Lupin got Harry settled. Harry fell asleep soon afterward.

Harry awoke to find sunshine streaming in the windows of the hospital wing. He tried to sit up again and his body once again told him that he didn’t want to move. He adjusted himself into a more comfortable position and then saw Ron and Hermione chatting at the far end of the room with Madam Pomfrey.

They saw him moving and all quickly came over.

“Harry!” Hermione exclaimed, “It’s so good to see you. I can’t believe you’re alive.” She started to cry.

Ron piped up, “I thought you were a goner too mate.”

Before Harry could answer, Madam Pomfrey asked, “Well, Potter, how are you feeling? They said that you would be very weak for quite awhile. You have a lot of healing to do.”

Harry considered, “I’m okay,” he said, “I am weak and sore, but otherwise I’m fine.”

“You look like hell mate,” Ron put in. “We can’t stay,” he continued giving Madam Pomfrey a nasty look. “But we’ll be back this evening after classes.”

“Dumbledore’s orders,” Madam Pomfrey said, “he wants Harry to get as much rest as possible.”

Harry was already feeling tired and his eyes started closing on their own accord, “I don’t think that is going to be a problem,” he conceded. “Its okay guys, get going, I’ll just rest.”

Hermione gave his hand a squeeze still crying and then she and Ron left. Harry was asleep again almost instantly.

Harry spent most of the next couple of days asleep in the hospital wing. It was very quiet. Harry wasn’t allowed many visitors, which was fine because Harry wasn’t really awake for much of it anyway. Ron and Hermione stopped by each evening with some of Harry’s other friends. But Madam Pomfrey only let them stay about an hour before they had to leave. That’s about all Harry could take before he’d need to rest again. He spent most of the day asleep.

By the end of the first week of classes, Harry was feeling better. Not great, but better. Madam Pomfrey allowed him to go back to Gryffindor tower for the weekend. She made him promise to come back each morning for his potions, and made it clear that he was not going to start classes for at least another week. He left the hospital wing late Friday night and to his surprise, they threw a huge party for him. There were balloons, food, and lots of noise. There was a sign that said “Harry, the True Gryffindor.”

Harry milled around saying hello to everyone, glad to be back. He mentioned the sign to Hermione and she said, “I finally did the research you wanted. You are descended from Godrick Gryffindor on your father’s side; you are from the bravest of the brave. You have proven it to everyone. You were willing to die for us. You are the True Gryffindor.”

Harry smiled and thanked her.

From behind him he heard Colin Creevy asked, “So Harry how was the rest of your summer?”

“Well Colin,” Harry answered, “it stunk. That was the worse summer holiday I have ever had.”

Colin didn’t know what to say, but Ron who was standing next to Harry said, “Mate, for you, summer always sucks.”

“I suppose,” Harry conceded, “but I don’t think I’ve ever been happier to get back to school. It just nice to know that at least now I’m not going to be shot, stabbed, knifed, unforgivably cursed, or thrown off of a cliff.”

“You’re safe now, Harry,” Hermione stated, “Voldemort can’t touch you here.”

Harry smiled at her, and said, “I know, Hermione, I know.”

Ron asked, “So how many times did he attempt to kill you this summer?”

Harry sighed, “I don’t know, Ron, several.”

“Well at least, the summer of several attempts is now over.”

“Let’s just hope I can survive the rest of the year.”

“You worry too much, mate.”

Harry stayed in Gryffindor tower resting for the next week. Ron, Hermione, or Neville brought him his meals and he left the tower only to go to the hospital wing for his daily doses of potions. His body was slowly recovering. He was determined to start classes again on Monday.

Finally the Monday of the third week of classes arrived and Harry got up early. He cleaned up and dressed in the bathroom. Harry finally got a good look at himself. Even after two weeks he still looked ill. But most of all he noticed his scar, or scars would be more correct. The 2nd killing curse had also left a mark. An identical scar a little bit to the right of the first one. It enhanced them both making them both appear more substantial somehow.

Harry sighed, now instead of having one scar for people to gawk at, there were two. He was brooding about going through another year where everyone started at his scar when he got to the great hall. He walked in and everyone in the room got really quiet. Harry walked over to the Gryffindor table and was starting to sit down when he realized that every eye in the place was on him. Used to this, Harry tried to ignore the room as a whole. He just wanted to eat his breakfast.

Before he could sit down, he was hugged around the chest by a small dark haired girl. She was in tears. She cried into his shirt, “You saved my life, you save my life. They were going to kill me, and you stopped them.”

Harry awkwardly patted her head. “It’s okay. What’s your name?”

She looked at him teary eyed, “Ruchi Patil.” And to the point, Padma and Parvati came walking toward them. Both of the twins started crying and hugged Harry too.

“Thank you, Harry for saving Ruchi,” Padma sobbed into Harry’s shoulder.

“Thank you Harry,” Parvati sobbed into Harry’s back.

The great hall was beginning to fill up and all of sudden Harry was surrounded. Everyone was thanking him. Eventually most of the students were surrounding Harry, and they starting cheering. Chants of “Harry, Harry,” started through the hall.

Harry sat down dazed as the chanting starting dying off. He sat next to Hermione and Neville. They smiled at him and Hermione leaned over and gave him a hug.

“I don’t get it,” Harry said to Hermione and Neville.

“For the first time everyone saw what happened Harry. You sacrificed yourself to save everyone else on the train and you lived. They know if it hadn’t been for you, they might be dead. They all see what we’ve always seen Harry.”

Harry shrugged and said, “Well, I’m hungry, what’s for breakfast?”

Hermione shook her head at him and laughed. “Toast and eggs, here you go.”

Harry quickly wolfed down his breakfast and headed out of the great hall without another thought, the school year had begun.